Falling Into College Year 2
by RLobinske
Summary: Daria, Jane and Daria's old dorm roommate, Karen, share an apartment during their sophomore year of college in Boston. Continuing the Last Summer and Falling Into College Year 1 stories.
1. The Parents Are At Rest

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the twenty-eighth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**The Parents Are At Rest**

Frustrated at herself, Helen Morgendorffer stuffed a stack of papers into her briefcase. _I'm on vacation. What am I doing reading these?_ She set the case down beside the bed, shifted her pink nightgown for comfort and settled under the sheets.

Her husband, Jake, lightly snored next to her. Helen looked at him and smiled. _At least things are going better for him._

She turned and looked up at the ceiling. _We will need to be here for each other more. Our children have grown and will be gone at the end of the week. Hard to believe twenty years have passed by so fast._

* * *

Exhausted, sore, sweat-soaked and elated, thirty-year old Helen took the tiny girl from the attending nurse and cradled her. Helen gently stroked the faint wisps of red-brown hair that graced the infant's head and said, "Daria. Welcome to the world. I hope you'll find it a better place when you grow up."

Jake entered the room at a run and slipped trying to turn at the bed. He managed to catch himself, and stopped. "Dammit!"

The nurse lightly chuckled. Helen looked toward her husband and sighed. "The overly excited man is your father."

Jake scrambled over to Helen and looked in utter amazement at his daughter. The frustration and rage at being made to wait vanished at the sight of Daria grasping her mother's hair. "She's beautiful," he whispered.

Helen looked up. "Oh, Jake, she is."

Jake made a face at the baby and said, "Goo-goo."

Unsteady, Daria's head turned vaguely in his direction and she smiled.

Jake grinned. "She likes me."

* * *

Helen sat cross-legged on the carpet and held a squirming newborn with bright red hair. Across the small apartment living room, her other daughter looked in a picture book. Helen called, "Daria, come here."

Responding her mother's voice, eighteen-month old Daria started to crawl, wobbled upright and took two steps before falling. Frustrated at her failure to walk, she crawled the rest of the way over.

Helen smiled and said, "This is your little sister, Quinn."

Daria pulled herself up to look. "Babba."

"Yes, baby."

Daria reached over and felt Quinn's cheek and nose. "Babba."

"You have somebody to play with."

"Pay." Daria smiled at her sister. "Pay."

* * *

After a sigh, Helen turned the nightstand light off. _It doesn't seem that long ago_.

* * *

_What a waste of a sunny, August afternoon._ Eighteen-year old Quinn sat on a sofa in a small, comfortable living room. To her right was Kathy Sullivan, a brunette with a flowing, easy to hear voice. To her left was a lean, well muscled young man, Benjamin Needham. They faced a small table set with drinks and a bowl of chips.

Standing beyond the table was a young woman with blond hair that spilled over her shoulders and completely covered her back. Rhiannon Jenkins clasped her hands together and said, "That about wraps everything up. Thank you all for making this summer so enjoyable and productive for the honor society. I'm sure our predecessors would be proud of what we have done."

Quinn's eyes were glazed in boredom. The honor society she had been inducted into at her graduation had turned into a summer-long ordeal. She wondered, _What have we done?_

Kathy finished the chips she was munching on. "Rhiannon, this has been such a wonderful experience. Thank you all for taking part."

_In what?_

Ben stretched and said, "This has been really cool. I hope we can stay in contact with each other."

_I don't._

After several seconds of silence, Rhiannon asked, "Quinn, were you going to say something?"

"Oh. It has been a real learning experience for me." _I think I learned just how pompous people can be. And I thought we were bad in the Fashion Club._

Rhiannon spread her hands wide. "It certainly has."

Kathy said, "I hope everyone has a good time in college."

Ben nodded. "I really hope so."

Quinn gave each a pleasant smile. "I'm looking forward to it." She looked at her watch. "Folks, I need to get going. Good-bye." Amid farewells from the group, she prepared to leave.

Just as Quinn reached the door, Rhiannon said, "I look forward to seeing everyone next June, when we return to Lawndale High to announce next year's members."

Quinn pivoted and said, "I'll see everyone then. Bye." She quickly walked to her red Vexer and got in. "I don't get it. Daria and her friends looked like they had so much fun with this club."

* * *

Balancing a tray of celery and carrot sticks, Quinn paused at the door and looked at the friends gathered in her room with warm fondness. Sitting together were Sandi Griffin, Stacy Rowe and Tiffany Blum-Deckler. In her mind, she thought of how each was attractive in a different way; Sandi was always the regal one, Stacy the girl next door, and Tiffany the exotic. Quinn had been the cute one of the group. She sat among them and set the tray down.

Stacy anxiously pulled at one of her braids. "I'm going to miss you guys. It'll be weird to only have Tiffany around."

Sandi said, "I'm only going to be about four hours away. I can visit on the weekends."

"That's wonderful, Sandi. What about you, Quinn?"

Quinn shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I'll probably only be back for the holidays. I'm expecting the drive out to Pepperhill University to take four days. I'm planning to fly back for the holidays; it'll be faster. But, I can't afford to do that too often."

Stacy continued to look sad. "We're going to miss you."

Quinn twirled a piece of celery in her hands. "I'm going to miss all of my friends. Each of you has been great."

Tiffany picked up a carrot stick. "You've been great, too."

Sandi said, "Excuse me." She got up and went to the door. "I'll be right back."

She closed Quinn's door, walked across the hall, and knocked on the partially open door. "Um…Like, Daria?"

Daria saw Sandi's head poke into her room. "That's me."

"Remember when you said if I needed some help, to ask?"

"Yes, I do. I like to keep my word, but please don't ask me to do anything illegal."

"That's…uh…kind of why I want your advice."

"Okay, what do you have in mind?"

Sandi removed a folded sheet of paper from her purse. "Could you, like, do something to my mother? Like you did to Upchuck?"

Daria inwardly shuddered to remember the stalker-like website that Charles Ruttheimer III had made. It was filled with candid shots of her all through high school in Lawndale, including one taken from a never-broadcast television tape. Daria had managed to get an anonymous complaint made about the last image, which got the site closed down as a Terms of Service violation. An unintended consequence was that Sandi lost her job at the television station.

Daria looked at the paper and thought, _I've got a bad feeling I don't want to see what's on that._ Daria took it but didn't unfold the paper. "Sandi…why do you want to do this?"

"Because my Mom blamed me for misplacing that stupid videotape and the television station fired me."

"Okay, she was wrong and hurt you."

Sandi nodded.

"Do you want that job back?"

"I'm leaving for college this weekend. No."

"Will this make your mother feel better about you?"

Sandi snorted. "No."

"What will this do for you?"

"I'll get even with Mom."

"Uh-huh. That's it?"

"Yes. Are you trying to get out of helping me?"

Daria shook her head. "I promised to help you. But, I didn't promise to be at your beck and call."

Sandi glared in confusion.

Daria motioned with the paper. "This will only hurt your mother, right?"

Sandi thought for a moment. "Yeah."

"Then using this would make you like her. How would you like to be better than your mother?"

"Better? How?"

Daria added another fold to the paper and handed it back to Sandi. "Don't use it."

"Huh?"

"Fighting back to right a wrong, or to prevent more wrongs, is the ethical thing to do. Fighting back only to harm, is not."

"I don't know."

"Destroy that paper and never mention it to anyone. You'll know you had the chance to hurt her and walked away from it, because you're a better person."

"But, she won't know."

"That's right." Daria tapped her head. "However, you will. Sometimes, the greatest victories are those that only you know about."

"What good is it if nobody knows about it?"

"It will always be yours…and nobody can take it from you."

Sandi stood in silence for a while and quietly said, "She can't take it from me." Sandi pocketed the paper. "Thanks."

Daria gave her a brief smile and nodded. _I hope this helped Sandi as much as it looked._ _Because_ _I fear that I just shielded Mrs. Griffin from some serious criminal charges._

* * *

Michael Fulton noticed Sandi about to go into Quinn's room and pointed his thumb back the way he'd came. "Bathroom's clear. Sorry you had to wait."

Sandi looked at him without registering what he said. "Oh, sure." She went in and closed the door.

"Curious."

Going into his girlfriend, Daria's, room, he asked, "Was…um…" He snapped his fingers while trying to remember. "…Sandi…just in here?"

"She was collecting on an old debt."

* * *

Sandi sat back among the old Fashion Club members and relaxed more than she could remember. _I know I won't be like you. Mother, you lost._

Quinn said to Tiffany, "I loved how you looked in that fall catalog. I knew one of us would do some modeling."

Tiffany blinked. "Thanks Quinn. It's a lot harder than it looks."

"I'm kind of jealous after we all had that modeling class as freshman," Stacy said. "But with starting the Business program at Lawndale Community College next Monday, I'll be busy with that and the racing circuit."

Sandi smiled and listened. Quinn tapped her hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm among my friends; how could I not be?"

"So, when do you leave for Northern Coastal State?"

"I'm going up on Sunday."

"After managing us all those years in the Fashion Club, Human Resources makes so much sense as your major."

* * *

Jake vigorously shook Jodie's hand. "Ms. Landon, it has been a pleasure working with you."

"Ms. Landon?"

"You're a business associate. It's only proper to call you that." He winked at her. "Unless you plan on becoming Mrs. MacKenzie some time soon."

"Oh, uh…no immediate plans for that. Probably wait until we graduate. The distance thing."

"Oh, right. That must be hard on you two."

"At times. But, we manage. Even then, it'll be Landon-MacKenzie."

"Ah."

"Mr. Morgendorffer, thank you for giving me this chance. I've learned so much of the real business world this summer." _And a hell of a lot more than I ever did shredding documents for that congressman or playing gofer for my Dad._

"If you ever need a letter of recommendation, give ol' Jake a call."

"I will. Thanks. I need to get going. Mack is waiting for me. We're going out to dinner before we both have to go back to school."

"Okay, take care."

"Bye."

* * *

In response to a series of loud clangs and bangs, Quinn looked in the garage. Her father was digging out a toolbox. She asked, "Daddy? What are you doing?"

He looked up with a broad grin. "I'm going to check out your car before you leave for the big trip tomorrow. We wouldn't want you to break down, would we?"

"Um…no. Mind if I watch?"

"That would be great! Let the old man teach you a few things about your car."

Quinn gave him a charming smile. _Mr. Rowe already checked it out yesterday at his auto shop and showed me what to check regularly. But, I better keep an eye out in case Dad breaks something._

* * *

Daria turned her head and kissed Michael under the chin. They sat on her bed, with his arms wrapped around her waist. She said, "It's been much nicer with Mom and Dad relaxed more around us."

"I'm glad I'm not trying to avoid your Dad anymore."

"That was a brave act. Facing him alone like that."

"Or foolish. I was hoping that Jodie being in the next room would help to calm him."

"It's a good thing you brought up how you first asked me out, or he may have forgotten she was there."

He drew a line of kisses along her forehead. "I've been wondering about that. Did they have any influence on your change of mind of going out with me?"

Daria raised a hand to his cheek. "Guilty. The crack appeared when Dad said how scared he was to first ask Mom out and how painful rejection can be. I realized that the same thing happened to you. It never occurred to me that somebody would be frightened of me like that. When Mom confirmed the story on the way back to Raft…my mind was changed." She pulled his face down and kissed his lips, lingering for several seconds. "I'm glad I did."

"Same here."

Daria rested her head back. "Speaking of Mom and Dad, I'm a little worried about them."

"Being here alone?"

"This is kind of a big house for just the two of them. Except for the last time they sent Quinn and me off to camp, seven years ago, they've had at least one of us around."

"They were together for something like twelve years before you were born. They might enjoy going back to that lifestyle."

"They had idealism back then, which I wouldn't mind them finding again. Like what Dad's done with Jodie's help this summer. But, they were also products of their generation. If they go back to…" Daria shivered. "…I'll have doubts about every horizontal surface in this house."

"From some of your comments about them, I'd also worry about a few of the vertical ones, too."

"I didn't need to consider that. Besides, that's not what I'm mostly worried about."

"Then, what?"

"Without having Quinn or me around to focus on, they'll focus on each other. That will either bring them closer."

"A good thing."

"Or they will explode."

"Bad thing."

"They've always had fights. Very rarely anything big, but you could tell. They've always made up. Without us around, Mom might be tempted to work even more. This could make Dad feel neglected, and the making up part gets missed."

"All that overwork can't be good for your mother's health, either."

Daria slowly shook her head. "No. Dad's had one heart attack. I hope Mom doesn't drive herself to one, or worse."

He held her tighter. "You are worried."

She wrapped her arms around his.

He pressed his cheek against hers. "Too bad I don't have any profound words of wisdom. I can only promise to be here for you."

She kissed him. "That helps."

"Just think; we can go through this again in two years with my parents."

"Ergh."

* * *

Helen sat on her bed and gently shook her husband. "Jake…Jake." She shook harder. "Jake…Jake."

His eyes shot open and he sat up. "What! Huh?" He looked around before settling. "Oh, hi Honey."

"Are we ready for tomorrow?"

"Of course we are. The girls and Michael are all packed for an early start. I personally checked out Quinn's car."

_At least it was checked by a professional first. Quinn said you didn't break anything._ "Thanks, she appreciated that."

"All we have to do is make breakfast for them."

"Jake, I meant after."

"After?"

"Yes, Jake. After."

"Oh, after. I don't know."

"Our little girls will be gone."

Jake sagged. "Gone." He looked at Helen. "College. We did a good job raising them, didn't we?"

"I hope so."

Silence passed between them as they thought. Eventually, Helen leaned toward Jake, "This could be our chance to spend real time together again."

"But we…oh. Yeah, we could."

Helen traced a finger along his chest. "Jake, I am proud of you. It may have taken twenty-five years, but you have a business doing something positive. I'm glad one of us was able to fulfill that wish."

"Helen, you'll make it too, some day."

"If I don't kill myself first."

* * *

Helen ladled batter onto the countertop griddle as Daria and Michael entered the kitchen together. She smiled and said, "Good morning. Your egg white pancakes will be ready in a minute."

Michael blinked. "Sounds good."

Daria went to the coffee pot and poured a mug. "It's official. Having you take a whole week off from work turns you into a totally different person."

Helen flipped a pancake. "Honey, it must seem that way. I haven't been able to spend this much time with my darlings in…I can't remember."

Daria handed the first mug to Michael and poured a second for herself. "Not since we moved here."

Helen's shoulders dropped and she looked at Daria. "Has it been that long?"

Daria finished adding milk and sugar to her coffee and went to Helen. "Mom, how often have Quinn or I hung around, either?"

Helen half-smiled. "Not that much."

"If we had, how often would you have been tempted to kill us?"

Helen smiled. "I'm still tempted."

"Good one."

Quinn called from her seat at the table, "Hi, Daria, Michael."

Jake waved and said, "Good morning."

Daria and Michael accepted plates from Helen and went to the table. As she sat, Daria looked out the window into the predawn light. "I don't think this place has ever seen this many people awake this early."

Quinn said, "Really. Daria, I know you two didn't get up early just to see me off. What's up?"

Daria shrugged. "We also want to head out right after breakfast. That'll give us the afternoon to get Michael settled into the dorm, and then show him my place."

Jake asked, "Michael, what are your plans between now and when classes start?"

"Job hunting. I had a one-shot scholarship that helped me keep my head above water last year. I need something else this year."

The remainder of breakfast fell into the familiar Morgendorffer silence. While Daria and Michael were putting their dishes in the washer, the doorbell rang.

Quinn rushed over and opened the door. "Lindy! I'm glad you made it."

The blond woman entered and hugged Quinn. "Told you I'd stop by before you left."

Lindy waved to the rest. "Hi."

Daria looked over. "I bet Casa Lane still isn't used to having somebody who willingly gets up in the morning living there."

Lindy laughed. "Not really, but I thinks it's adapting."

"Thanks again for having us over the other night."

"I had fun, and Amanda appreciated seeing you again."

* * *

Half an hour later, Daria looked down at her watch and then at Quinn, sitting beside Lindy on one of the sofa sections. "We should be going. I suggest leaving at the same time, to keep Mom and Dad's long good byes to a minimum."

Quinn sighed. "Yeah, you're right."

Daria stood up and held Michael's hand. "Mom, Dad. We're ready."

Helen looked at Jake and took his hand. Daria could sense their feelings of loss.

At a slow pace, all went to the driveway. After a "Good-bye," Michael waved to all, got into his silver-gray car and patiently waited.

Daria hugged both her parents and said, "Once more unto the breach."

Helen said, "Drive careful, Sweetie."

Jake said, "Have a safe trip."

Daria told both, "That's my intention."

She went to Quinn, hesitated, and hugged her little sister. "You really need to be careful. Four days is a long trip by yourself."

"I'll be careful, and I'll miss you, Sis."

"Hey, with that phone you gave me, I'll be even easier to contact than last year."

"But, I'll know you won't be as close."

"I understand. I hate these long good-byes."

Daria waved to Lindy, got into her black sedan and started it. After Michael backed into the street, Daria followed suit. With her in the lead, they headed toward the interstate.

Quinn wiped a tear. "Bye, Sis."

Lindy tapped her shoulder. "Daria was right. Please drive carefully."

Quinn hugged her friend. "I promise. I'll also call you when I'm settled."

"I'd appreciate that."

Lindy smiled toward Jake and Helen. "I'll head on out so you can have a few minutes with your folks. Bye."

"Bye, Lindy." Sniffing back more tears, she watched her friend also drive away. A couple moments later, Quinn turned to face her parents.

Both hugged her tightly for several minutes. Overlapping admonitions to be careful and to please call every night she was on the road filled the time. Finally, she disengaged. "Mom, Dad. I'll be careful. I have a real long day ahead; I need to get going. I'll miss you."

Helen said, "We'll miss you, too."

Quinn's shoulders dropped a bit and she quickly hugged her parents again. "I love you."

Both said, "I love you," in return.

Quinn held them a bit longer before she also went to her red Vexer. She squeezed into the stuffed vehicle. _Even with Daria's help to cut down on what I'm carrying, I can barely get in._ She waved and yelled, "Bye!" as she drove away.

Helen waved to her youngest a last time and stared down the empty street. Upon hearing a sniffle from Jake, she turned to ask, "Are you okay?"

"Sure, Honey. Our last little girl has officially left the nest. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

She moved one hand over to hold his. "Because, you already miss them as much as I do."

"It's going to be a long autumn."

Helen turned and kissed Jake. "But, we still have each other. Now, we have more time to work on that. Like we talked about last night."

"We do still have the rest of the day off…"

"…And the house to ourselves."

* * *

"No damn wonder they had ladies in waiting," Daria grumbled.

Late that afternoon, her roommate, Jane Lane, pulled tight on the back lacing of a yellow and blue quartered cotehardie that Daria had worn a couple weeks earlier for Raft's summer production of _Henry V_. Finally, Jane tied it with a bow knot. "I bet they would have killed for a zipper."

Daria squirmed around. "Still tight around the middle. Oh well."

"If I could get you out running with me, you wouldn't have that problem."

"It's bad enough that I walk for exercise nowadays; I won't fall that far into the abyss."

"There's not another reason you may be a bit large around the middle, is there?"

"Jane, I'm going to rejoice when you finally drag your butt up to the gutter. No, we have not put the pills to the test."

"Just checking."

Daria turned and looked in the mirror. The close fit and clean lines of the dress gave her an elegant beauty, even with the slight bulge around the midsection. "Okay, this will be a first. I'm intentionally wearing something special to look good for a guy."

"After spending six hours on the road and two hours helping him move into his room."

"I am a little nervous about this."

"You'll be fine."

Daria looked down. "And a little excited."

Jane smirked. "And you gave me hell for wearing retro clothes for Nathan."

"Crap."

"Gotcha."

"However, I'm not going out in public."

"Crap. Wait, you got up on stage."

"True, but that was for a class, not for Michael. You took foxtrot lessons for Nathan."

"Hey, those were fun, even if he was a jerk."

"Um…actually, the play was fun."

Jane shook her head. "Okay, I'll go tell your boy-toy you're ready and then make a tasteless departure."

Daria put a hand on Jane's arm. "Ask him to give me a minute."

"Sure, later." Jane went into the hall and Daria could hear her say, in a bad, fake British accent, "Her highness needs another couple minutes to prepare. I'm off for a run."

Daria pulled a zippered bag from her closet and opened it. The smell of moth balls drifted up to her nose. Inside, on hangers, were a black skirt, a dull orange shirt and a green jacket. _I've gone through a lot since your retirement, but you will never be forgotten. Michael would have seen through you just as easily as he saw through my baggy sweatshirts. Even as much as my therapy sessions, his kindness has helped me accept how I look. He deserves this._ She closed it the zipper and returned it to the rack.

Daria opened the door to her room. "Okay, you can come in now."

Michael came in, said, "Wow," and gave her one of the gentle hugs she enjoyed. After a few moments, he took a step back and looked at her. "The dress doesn't make you look beautiful, you make it look beautiful."

She held his hands and felt a blush. "Thank you."

"Thank you for going to the trouble of showing me. I bet this wasn't easy for you. I appreciate it."

"It's still hard for me to dress up. You've always been able to see me, despite what I might wear. You even told me I was beautiful on our first date. With the way everyone said I looked in this, I wanted you to see in person."

He drew her close and kissed her. "One of the interpretations for the meaning of 'Daria' is 'Queen.' Like the dress, it fits you perfectly."

* * *

Showered and relaxed after a long day's drive, Quinn sat on a bed and brushed her hair. The mid-priced hotel off the interstate in Indiana was about what you'd expect. A basic room to wash up and sleep. _Certainly not Le Grande. And that restaurant. Brr. How much fat do they expect people to eat? At least they had salads._

Quinn set her brush down and walked more to work out the stiffness in her muscles. She interlaced her fingers and stretched her arms up over her head and leaned back. As she did, she recoiled back and said, "Eww! What is that stain on the ceiling?"

* * *

Helen slid under the sheets with a smile and a bit of embarrassment. _I suppose that was a little excessive for our first day with the house to ourselves._

She settled down with her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. Even though she knew the house really wasn't any quieter than before, the silence was suddenly overwhelming. Helen curled against Jake and listened to his breathing for reassurance. _They're really gone. Where did all those years go? I wish I had spent a little extra time with them._

* * *

"I don't care if this exit doesn't have a big-name hotel. I'm tired of driving for the day," Quinn complained. The sun was low in the sky ahead as she exited the interstate and followed the road signs to the nearest hotel.

Big Bill's Road Ranch looked like the refugee from late 60's tourist kitsch that it was. From the fake hitching posts to the worn stucco, it had seen better days, but still looked to be at least regularly cleaned.

"Howdy, ma'am!" the desk clerk greeted as she came in. She tiredly walked over.

"I need a room for one."

"One night?"

"Yes."

"Cash or card?"

Quinn handed over her credit card and waited while the transaction was completed. After accepting the key card from the man, she asked, "Is there a restaurant here?"

"Yes, ma'am. Right around back. Best barbeque pork ribs in Oklahoma!"

"Pork ribs?"

"Yes, ma'am. We use only the finest local raised porkers. Make sure you get a bib, they are juicy."

Quinn gave a queasy smile. "Do you have a fruit plate?"

* * *

Jake stood in the upstairs hall and looked between the two open doors of the bedrooms. _I've hardly ever seen open doors in the last four years._ Quinn's room looked almost lived in. Only if you knew Quinn would you recognize that the almost-full closet was comparatively empty, or that some of the stuffed animals were gone from the canopy bed.

Jake leaned on the doorframe and said, "I would've stayed in that old apartment if I'd known just how much of your lives I would miss." He turned and went to Daria's old room. It was almost bare; she'd moved everything with her earlier in the summer. "Girls, I'm sorry."

* * *

Sandi tore the letter from her mother's files into small fragments and scattered them into a trashcan at a highway rest stop. That job complete, she returned to her yellow convertible.

As Sandi sat down, she looked over at the heavy manila envelope holding the information on her college trust fund and remembered her private questions to the family accountant on the previous Friday.

* * *

She said, "So…only you can write checks from the fund and only to the school for tuition, books, room and board."

"Yes, Ma'am. Your parents made sure this was a very tightly controlled trust. Even they cannot withdraw funds during the four school years of the contract."

_Because they've been on the edge of divorce for years and don't trust the other not to raid it._

"But remember, little lady, that puts a time limit on how long you can take to graduate. Don't dawdle. Unless you pay out of pocket for something else, you'll have to live in the dorms and use the school meal plan all four years."

"I understand."

* * *

"I understand." She started the car and backed out to resume her drive to North Coastal State. "You lost me, Mother. I'm gone and will never return to your house. Never." As she accelerated down the road, Sandi thought, _I'm glad I warned Sam and Chris, so she won't be able to do the same to them._

The wind blew a fragment out of the trashcan and across the driveway.

**From the desk of:  
****Linda Griffin  
****Vice President of Marketing  
****KSBC Television  
****Lawndale, MD.**

**Dear Principal Li,**

* * *

The desert air of New Mexico felt like a massive blow dryer on high as Quinn rushed to the hotel lobby. _How can anybody live here without stock in a moisturizer company?_

After a brief exchange with the desk clerk for a room, Quinn had dropped a suitcase off and was back on the road to find the New Age diner that he'd told her about. After the first relaxing meal that wasn't a salad or bowl of cereal since leaving Lawndale, she enjoyed the ride back to the hotel.

The lot was dark when she parked near her room. Quinn grumbled, "Idiots can't keep the lights on," as she firmly gripped her pepper spray and locked the car. She gazed up and stopped. Stars blazed in the clear desert sky like she'd never seen before and the opalescent glow of the Milky Way astonished her. Minutes passed by as she stared up. The sound of another car broke her concentration and she walked quickly to her room. Inside, she went to the window and stared out from her darkened room for many more long minutes. "Wow."

* * *

Helen rested her briefcase on the kitchen counter and double-checked the contents before snapping it shut. She looked at Jake quietly reading the paper and drinking coffee at the table. Without even Quinn around, the Monday morning had seemed empty and without event. Helen looked at her watch and said to him, "Back to the old grindstone. I don't want to be late the first day back from vacation."

Jake grunted a reply without lowering his paper, just as he'd done for many years.

Helen started out the door and stopped. She turned and went back to her husband. Helen placed two fingers on his cheek and turned his head to kiss him. "I love you, Jakey. Have a nice day."

Jake sat in surprise with his eyes wide. "Oh…Have a nice day. And…I love you, too."

* * *

Quinn followed the small map she'd picked up at the parking kiosk to find her dormitory and a place to park, though the space was quite a distance from the building. Supremely annoyed at her stiffness, she rose and stretched. _If I ever hear Daria bitch about her six hour drive from Boston again, I'll kill her._ She grabbed one bag, locked up, and went inside.

Several women were at the front desk and many other young women milled around and talked. After waiting in line for about ten minutes, she made it up to one of the ladies. "Hi, I'm Quinn Morgendorffer. I need to check in."

A tanned girl with platinum blond hair snapped some gum and said, "Spell that."

"M-O-R-G-E-N-D-O-R-F-F-E-R"

"Okay, girlie." She ducked under the counter and came up several seconds later with keys. "Here ya go. You're in room four-thirty-one. Sign here." She pointed to a page on a clipboard covered with names and room numbers.

"Thanks." Quinn signed and wrote "431" beside her name.

She went to the elevator and joined the crowd of freshman waiting. Soon the car arrived and they herded into it. Each freshman carried some bag, box or other item. When Quinn exited on the fourth floor, she waved back. "Bye, Patricia, Zoe, Lisa, Cassie. I'll see you around."

Several replies of, "Bye, Quinn," came from within.

She smiled and went to her room, unlocking the door. Inside, Quinn saw a tiny, thin girl, dressed all in black, sitting on a bed. She was facing away and sorting through a suitcase.. Her brown/black hair fell to the bed and spread out a foot around her.

Quinn smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Quinn Morgendorffer."

The girl waved a hand without looking. "I'm Fran Lawrence. Looks like we're roommates."

"Looks like it."

Fran's hand fell and she said in a quieter voice. "Before I turn around…I was in a very bad accident when I was ten. I had to be cut out of a crushed car. My face can be unsettling."

Fran turned. Quinn first noticed soft, gray eyes with long, even lashes under delicately arched brows. Below, scars crossed the lower half of Fran's face, with the left side flattened and pressed back and a slight droop to that side of her mouth.

Quinn let out a weak, "Ee," and raised her hand to her mouth.

Fran looked down for a moment. "That's why I warned you."

"I'm sorry."

"I've had eight years to adapt to it. It is a natural reaction."

_I bet Daria would've reacted better._ "I'm still sorry."

Quinn placed her bag on the other bed and looked around. Fran had also arrived well supplied: her shelves were almost full of books and the open closet was heavily filled with clothes, almost all of them black. A computer was already set up on her workdesk.

"I still need to bring up my stuff. How about we go out for dinner after that?"

Fran gave her a smile. "I could eat. Thanks."

Quinn said, "I'll be back," and bounced out of the room. As she rode the elevator down, she thought, _That poor girl. She has such lovely eyes, but hardly anyone will see them because…_ The door opened and she headed for the parking lot. _But, what can I do?_

Quinn saw several young men walking by the parking lot and waved to them. "Hi. Could any of you help me move my stuff up to my room?"

Fifteen minutes later, everything was in the room. Quinn grinned and waved to the departing men. "Thanks Rod, Tony, Larry and Alex. I'll see you around."

Calls of, "Bye Quinn…Nice to meet you, Quinn…Call any time…" came down the hall.

Quinn looked at the dumbfounded Fran and pulled out her cell phone. "I need to check in with my Mom, and let a good friend know I made it. Then, we'll go out. My treat."

* * *

"Thanks for calling, Quinn. I'm relieved you made it without any problems. Please call in a couple days after you get settled. Good-bye."

After hanging up the phone, Helen looked at the remaining stack of briefs on her desk and groaned. "And people wonder why I don't go on many vacations. Almost a full day back and it looks like I haven't made a dent in it."

Eric Schrecter entered the office and stood before Helen with a broad grin on his face. "The vote was unanimous. Congratulations, partner."

"What?"

"Partner. You made it."

"I did?"

Eric grinned more. "Yes, you did. All your hard work has paid off. I'm assigning Becker, Wilson and Collingsworth to deal with these backlogs. You can cut back your hours to something reasonable. Get some rest. Spend extra time with your kids. I must get going. Once again, congratulations."

Helen stared in shock for a minute before saying with a bitter laugh, "Get some rest."

She slid down in her chair. "Spend extra time with your kids."

Quietly, she began to cry.

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

February 2005


	2. Back Aboard

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged. Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the twenty-ninth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Back Aboard**

The evening sun's rays fell on Karen Myerson kneeling beside a grave in her quiet, rural Georgia hometown's cemetery. Her left arm was in a cast and supported by a sling over a red and black plaid shirt tucked into one of her usual pairs of jeans. The young blonde placed a bundle of yellow carnations in front of the tombstone, which had carnations carved into the face above the inscription:

Laura Deanna Austin  
June 3, 1981 – October 17 1998

Tears began to trickle down Karen's face. "I still miss you. I'm sorry I haven't been by since leaving for college." She lightly followed the letters with her fingertips. "It's taken a long time to build up the courage to come back. I can't believe how blind I was to what you were doing, and hope someday you forgive me."

She placed her hand back on the flowers. "If it's any comfort, your loss may have helped save my roommate from a serious problem. Either that, or just proved I'm a meddling witch." Karen remembered a difficult conversation with her roommate, Daria Morgendorffer, the previous October.

"_I'm worried about this self-image problem of yours. I've already had one person ask me if you were anorexic and hiding it. That's not a good sign. I don't want you hurting yourself."_

"_When did you become a psychologist?"_

"_I'm not. I'm a concerned friend trying her best. You don't have an eating disorder now, but, you know as well as I do, that something like that can be easily triggered when somebody has a low opinion of their own body. I've already been through one friend doing that."_

_Karen stopped and choked slightly, before covering her face for a moment. She inhaled and said, "I don't know if I could live through a repeat."_

"You'd like Daria. She's intelligent, funny, and one of the most dedicated friends possible. We'll be together again this year. I'll be sharing an apartment with her and her friend from high school, Jane."

Karen sat back and cleared her eyes. "I'm doing pretty good in school and still plan on being a vet." She waved her broken arm. "Also, I'm still working the same summer job for old Doc Westerman. That's how I got this. One of the Reilly's mares got in a good shot.

"Would you believe I have a steady boyfriend now? Derek was able to stay for a week when he finished his Guard training up at Fort Benning this summer. He's a molecular bio major at school. I met him last fall. His folks live in western Massachusetts, so he'll meet me at Raft. I know; everyone back in high school would give me hell for dating a Yankee. We really have been getting serious."

Karen smiled warmly. "Yes, even that serious, and I kept the promise of no back seat." Karen laughed a little. "I'm glad it was my turn to do the laundry."

Karen looked to the side for a second. "My folks are both doing well. Things got a little tight last fall, between my school costs and some equipment breakdowns. Daria helped me find enough financial aid to keep me in school up in Boston."

She returned her gaze to the gravestone. "That brain-damaged brother of mine, Terry, and his wife Jill are still happy together. She's been looking a little green around the gills lately. I wonder if I'll be seeing a niece or nephew by the time I'm back for next summer."

The call of a whip-poor-will made Karen realize it was getting dark. She stood and looked down. "I need to get home to pack. I've got a lot of driving to do over the next two days. I so hope you've been able to rest peacefully. I promise to stop by more often. Bye."

She slowly walked toward the road, where she'd parked the two-tone blue, light pickup with a bed topper that she'd purchased a few weeks earlier.

* * *

Karen's brother and her father, Geoff, balanced a tan and brown sofa before sliding it into the bed of her truck. Both were large and strongly built from years of farm work. Terry had short, light brown hair and a mustache, while Geoff's short hair was solid gray. He asked Karen, "How do you plan on getting this thing into your apartment? You're not supposed to try to lift anything, and from the sounds of it, I don't think your roommates can do it."

"I'll give Derek a call and we'll see if Daria can drag her male over to help," Karen said. "And don't be fooled, Jane's a lot stronger than she looks."

"Okay, just make sure to stay off that arm."

"Dad, I have been, haven't I?"

Terry cinched the tie-down straps to secure the sofa to the truck. "So far. But, Dad knows you as well as I do."

"Trust me, Daria and Jane will watch me just as close. Jane because she'll simply enjoy it, Daria because she wants to get even for me watching out for her."

* * *

Maddie Myerson put a plate of fresh eggs, toast, and bacon down in front of Karen. "There, you should at least have one good, hot meal before your trip."

An observer could clearly tell the mother/daughter relationship, from the dark blond hair and tall build to their wide hips. Karen smiled back and said, "Thanks. One thing good about driving: I'll have more food options than I did taking a bus."

"You be careful, driving with only one arm."

"I will. I'm already damaged goods; I don't want to see any more done in transit." Karen rolled her eyes as she realized how that comment could be taken. "I've had three weeks experience driving around here like this."

"It's a good thing you didn't get that stick shift."

"No kidding."

"Say hi to that nice Daria for me."

"I will, Mom."

"And make sure you thank the Morgendorffers for letting you stay the night."

"I will."

Maddie went out of the room and returned with two large net bags of onions. "Don't forget."

Karen grinned. "I won't. I'm sure Daria's parents will appreciate their bag. Besides, you think I liked those bitter bullets they sold for onions up there?"

Maddie laughed. "Now that you have a real place, I can ship more fresh vegetables up to you."

"I'm looking forward to that. With a little luck, I should make converts out of Daria and Jane."

"What about Derek?"

"I love him, but when it comes to food, he's hopeless. He thinks MRE's taste good."

"That just makes it a bigger challenge."

"Mom, I don't think you can overcome taste buds burned off by hot sauce."

"With a little patience, you'll be surprised."

"I take it Dad required training?"

"Oh, no. Your Grammy Bella did that. I was thinking about your Uncle Calvin. Aunt Viv had a time with him."

* * *

Karen exchanged waves with her parents as she set off into the predawn fog. Her truck was filled front and back with possessions. She looked around and giggled. "To think that a year ago, I traveled with only two suitcases and two satchels."

She drove down the narrow country road and let out a light sigh. _Back to the crowds and concrete of the city._ After about ten minutes, she reached the edge of town and smiled at the single police car parked at the breakfast diner. _Rusty must have run late getting on duty again this morning._

She continued through the small town, only occasional signs of activity present. On the other side of town, she could see lights in the farm houses on, farmers already preparing for the day's work, and to try to get as much done in the early morning before the late August heat settled in. Soon she joined a wider road, and later picked up Interstate 95. At the first rest stop, she pulled in and rolled her sling back over the cast enough to allow her to reach the steering wheel. _What they don't know, won't hurt them._ With her left arm providing partial assistance in steering, Karen pulled back onto the highway.

* * *

At about seven that evening, Karen pulled the truck to a stop outside a red brick home in Lawndale, Maryland. A red SUV and a blue Lexus were parked in the driveway. _Both are home._ She climbed out and walked to the front door. She hesitated before ringing the bell.

Soon Helen Morgendorffer answered the door. "Karen. It's so nice to see you, come in."

"Thanks, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

Oh, dear. Did you drive all the way like that?"

"Not a lot of fun, but manageable."

Jake looked over from the sofa. "Hey, Karen. How's it going?"

"Okay, Mr. Morgendorffer." Karen held up one bag of onions. "Mom insisted I drop off a bag of fresh sweet onions for you."

Helen accepted the bag. _Oh my God. Jake's going to want these in everything he cooks for the next two weeks._ Smiling, she said, "Tell your mother how much we appreciate it."

"I'll remember."

She read the label. "Myerson Certified Organic?"

"We got the certification this summer. So far, it looks like Terry was right: it was a good move." She looked around. "Not to be rude, but it's been two and a half hours since my last stop. Where's your bathroom?"

Helen pointed. "Up the stairs and straight. The guest room is immediately to the left of that."

With relief, she said, "Thanks."

* * *

Early in the morning, Karen talked to the mirror as she brushed her hair. "This has been an experience. I'm glad I was able to honestly claim to be tired last night."

She packed the brush into a small case and went to the guest room to retrieve her suitcase. She looked around and let out a short laugh. "Michael must have used this room when he stayed here. I bet Jane will tease Daria about me sharing a bed with him." She continued to smile and walked out of the room. "Maybe Jane needs an inflatable male."

She went downstairs and left her suitcase by the front door. The first floor was dark and quiet. "Why not? They did put me up for the night." Karen went to the kitchen and turned on the light. "Now where do they keep everything?"

* * *

Already dressed for work and carrying her briefcase, Helen could smell the food as she came downstairs and entered the kitchen. _Why do my guests keep making breakfast? _"Karen, that is so sweet of you."

"Hey, you saved me the cost of a hotel and fed me."

"You're our guest; you didn't have to."

"I've been around Daria too long. You don't have time to cook this morning, do you?"

Helen looked down. "No."

"That's what I thought."

Helen sat on a stool at the counter while Karen served a plate and cup of coffee. Helen started to eat in silence, with something clearly bothering her.

Karen pulled up a stool and sat across the counter with her breakfast. "Daria says that she always knew you were thinking about them, even when you couldn't be there."

Helen looked up. "She's always been far more understanding of me than she let on."

Karen gave her a grin. "That must be why she can put up with Jane and me."

Helen smiled back. "I'm glad she's staying with such good friends."

Jake came in, still wearing a bathrobe. "Hey! That smells good. Did somebody cook breakfast?"

Karen rolled her eyes and looked at Helen, who shook her head and patted Karen's hand.

* * *

Karen double-checked her map duct-taped to the dashboard as she drove down a residential street. After a string of colorful outbursts, she said, "It's freaking sad when you have problems finding your own apartment. Probably would've helped if I'd been there more than a couple of times before I left for Georgia."

She noticed a street sign. "Finally." She made the turn and went down several blocks to a large nineteenth century house. Karen drove around to the back and parked to the side of the driveway, next to an old carriage house that now acted as a garage for the owner.

The only other car in sight was a black sedan with a phoenix painted on the hood and flames trailing down the side of the car. "Must be Jane's."

She grabbed one of her suitcases and walked up the outside staircase to the second floor. She set the bag down and opened the door. "Jane! I made it."

A lean woman with jet black hair sitting in one of the camp chairs in the living room waved and said, "Welcome back, Karen. What did you do to your arm?"

Karen looked down at her cast-bound left arm. "A horse kicked it."

Jane smirked, "Unhappy patient?"

"Exactly. She wasn't thrilled with the procedure."

Jane queried, "What could be so bad?"

"It involved a very long rubber glove…we'll leave it at that."

Jane thought for a second before making a disgusted face. "Ew."

"That's a good, technical description of it. Where's Daria?"

"She and Michael were out for lunch. They should be back soon."

"Good, I was hoping to have a strong back around to help. I brought a real sofa with."

Jane jumped up and ran to the door, looking down at the tarp-covered end sticking out of the back of Karen's truck. She pumped a fist. "Yes! Our first real living room furniture." She turned to Karen. "How'd you pull that off?"

"It's a hand-me-down from Terry. They got a new one, so…"

Jane grinned. "We'll take it."

"I like your new car."

"Thanks. Sometimes my brother is also good for something."

"I'm going to call Derek to tell him to come over. Then I'll take a bath and change." She pointed to her cast. "Taking a shower with this thing is just too much of pain in the neck. When everyone gets here, I'll recruit them to unload the truck."

* * *

A muscular man with brown hair held the front of the sofa and another young man with a medium build, red hair and glasses, carried the back of it. They carried it up the stairs and onto the apartment landing. Derek Adler stopped just inside the apartment door. Michael Fulton said from outside, "Okay where do you want it…and no anatomical suggestions."

Jane directed. "Okay, straight ahead…right…a little more…straight…okay, hook left…that's it…a little more…that's it…stop."

The two set the sofa down in the sparse living room. The room otherwise had three folding upright camp chairs and one lounge chair, plus a television on a cart. The furniture looked out of place with the Victorian-era pale of the walls and dark green trim and wainscoting. Both men rolled over the sofa arms and plopped onto it.

Karen tilted her head next to Daria. "You'd think we overworked them or something."

Daria looked at them. "I think they're angling for attention."

Jane sat down between Derek and Michael. "Well, if you two aren't interested…"

Michael and Derek looked at Jane, at Daria and Karen, and then each other. With expressions of mock fear, each slid away from Jane to the edge of the sofa.

Jane looked at them and crossed her arms. "Hrmph."

Karen sat on the couch arm and kissed Derek. "It's all in the training."

Derek glared good-naturedly at Karen. "Training? Sorry, you don't look at all like any of my D.I.s. Thank God."

Jane cracked into laughter. "But you must admit, if they looked like her, recruitment would go up."

She got up, still laughing. "I'm going to grab some drinks for everyone."

Daria followed her into the kitchen. "Hey, you all right?"

Jane turned. "I will be. I know they were only playing around."

"Look, they…"

"…Were being loyal. Janey's just feeling a little left out."

Daria looked down and sighed.

Jane gently pushed Daria's shoulder. "Hey, you did try to set me up with someone."

"Who was a flake even CC had to get rid of. Look, I'll talk to them."

"Don't. It wasn't bright, but they were only having fun. Head back in. I'll get the drinks." She saw Daria's remaining concern. "I'll be okay, just give me a few seconds."

Daria watched her. "Okay. A few seconds."

"Git."

Daria went back into the living room. Michael met her halfway and whispered. "That didn't go over too well, did it?"

She hugged him and whispered back, "Not exactly."

"Damn. I'm sorry."

"Come on, let's go face the others."

Karen was nestled under Derek's arm when they got back. He asked, "How's Jane?"

"She'll live. I bet she's going to come out with some idea for having fun."

Everyone nodded in understanding.

Michael sat in the lounge chair and slid to the side. Daria shook her head and squeezed beside him. "You're starting to like this too much."

He put an arm around her and gently hugged her. "Starting?"

"Okay, you're just plain spoiled."

"Guilty."

She relaxed against him. "Me, too."

Jane came in holding a six-pack of sodas by one open ring. "Okay, you have your choice of the local store brand cola…or the local store brand cola."

She peeled off cans and handed them around, then sat in a chair and opened the remaining can. She looked at the two couples and an impish grin formed. "This is the last weekend of summer. Daria and I have spent almost the entire time cooped up indoors. We live in a coastal city."

Daria lowered her head. _Here it comes_.

Jane grinned at her. "You squirmed out on me earlier. I want to go to the beach."

Karen said, "Just don't expect me to get this cast wet."

Derek said, "I'll go for amoral support."

Michael said, "I've never really been to an ocean beach."

Daria sighed. "Okay, I'm in."

Jane said, "Goody."

* * *

Karen leaned out of the window of her truck and yelled, "Jane, you better know where we're going!" Stuffed into the back of her truck were chairs, umbrellas, coolers and almost all the beach cargo for six people.

Jane leaned out of her car window and yelled back, "I've got Daria reading the map. If we get lost, blame her!"

Inside Jane's car, her old roommate, CC sat in the front passenger seat. Her dark blue hair was pulled into a single braid and tied with an ornate ribbon. Daria sat behind Jane and Michael behind CC. Daria said, "That's it, preemptively blame me. CC could just as easily do this."

Jane looked in the rear-view mirror. "Yeah, but this keeps you busy with something other than normal back seat activities." She shifted the car into drive and it started moving.

CC looked at Jane. "I thought she was navigating because I can get lost on the way to the bathroom."

"That, too."

"There is a reason I still live on campus." She turned to Daria. "Can you believe that they still want me as a Residence Assistant for the full year?"

Daria said, "They must be desperate."

"They are, but I'll take it. Free room and board."

Jane said, "Partial board: I know you'll be coming over to mooch food. Nobody can live on a complete diet of BFAC cafeteria food."

CC laughed. "Perhaps some aliens might."

Michael leaned forward, "Haven't you ever wondered what happened to those students that just seemed to drop out of sight…"

Jane shook her head. "Nah. That would mean that there's meat in the mystery meat."

CC added, "And we know that's not true. Raw tofu has more flavor."

Jane pulled out onto the street, with Karen and Derek following behind.

* * *

Each laden with supplies, they trudged across the parking lot and onto a wooden ramp. Daria stopped at the edge of the beach, looking out. "There's too many people."

Jane said from behind, "But, you can't complain about there not being enough exits."

Grumbling, Daria continued onto the beach. They found a sufficiently clear area and unloaded their burdens to form a base camp. Daria wore her only swim suit, a blue one-piece. Karen wore the same yellow and white suit she'd used for Jane's Spring Break party. Daria noticed that Jane had found a bright red bikini that was more revealing than her previous suits. CC had a white suit that was probably pushing the local exposure limits. Michael appeared to have on the same green shorts as he'd worn to the party, while Derek had some cut-off jeans on.

Soon chairs and umbrellas were up and functioning. Jane looked out toward the ocean. "Wouldn't it be cool if a dead whale washed up on the beach?"

Daria squinted. "Cool?"

Karen settled into a lounge chair and adjusted her cast. "Doc likes to tell the story of when he helped with a necropsy on one in school. He said that after a day on the beach it stunk like you wouldn't believe. To top it off, tourists kept asking them why they didn't try to save it."

Derek let out a couple laughs. "I must stay this: you ladies are not among the squeamish types."

Daria said, "Which is a good thing. If we had to depend on the likes of you two to protect our delicate sensibilities, we'd be in trouble."

Michael looked up from raiding the cooler for a drink. "Hey! What'd I do?"

* * *

Once all was in place, Derek settled in next to Karen in side by side chairs. Michael and Daria held hands and walked to the surf. Jane nudged CC. "Looks like time for us to go trolling."

"Fly-fishing could be more fun with this crowd."

Jane looked at CC from foot to head. "No idea of where to put the hook."

CC smirked and poked Jane in the back. "If we put it in here." Followed with a poke to her stomach. "And brought it out here, it would work."

"Funny."

CC looked at Michael and Daria near the water. "Isn't that kind of like the blind leading the blind?"

"I hope they left a trail of bread crumbs to find their way back."

"She seems to be a little more relaxed."

Jane leaned her weight onto one hip. "She is. Last year, I literally had to drag her out of the room." She looked down. "Hell, I've changed; there's probably half the fabric on this compared to my old suit."

CC lightly slapped Jane on the shoulder. "Come on, the art hussy and the stripper need to find some fun."

"Who are you calling a hussy? I'm very particular."

* * *

Daria stopped at the water with an intake in breath. "That's cold."

"Finest North Atlantic. What did you expect?"

"You know, there is a reason people die of hypothermia after a ship sinking."

He gently pulled on her hand. "Come on."

"You're one of those jump-in-and-get-it-over-with types, aren't you?"

He shrugged.

"Well, I like to draw out the misery."

"Tell you what; I'll go dive in, and wait for you to come out to me."

She squinted without her glasses. "Providing I can find you."

"I can see you enough to track. I'll holler and give you directions."

She snorted. "Why do I keep you around?"

"I still haven't figured that one out, but I know why I stay around."

She gave him a smile and kiss. "Good save. Go on; just expect to wait a bit."

Michael took a running start and made a shallow dive, emerging with a loud exhale and eyes wide open.

A little faster than she liked, Daria worked her way out in the direction he ran, stopping and rising up on her toes as each wave came in. Occasional calls from him helped her maintain the proper direction.

As she got close, she realized he must be squatting down to hold just his head above the surface, as the water level was only chest high on her as she got close. He moved up and wrapped his arms around her. "Adapting?"

"Barely. The human body really wasn't meant for these temperatures."

He held her tighter. "Better?"

Daria closed her eyes and let out a pleased sigh. With only the fabric of her swimsuit between them, the warmth of his chest felt good. She looked up and kissed the underside of his chin. "Yes."

He leaned back and pushed off, away from shore.

Daria tightened.

"Just heading out a little further so we can swim."

"Michael…I'm not a good swimmer. The last time I spent any real time swimming was at summer camp when I was twelve."

He stopped his outward motion by dragging his feet on the bottom. "How about here, then?"

"Fine."

He released her and she felt her feet touch bottom, with the water at the top of her shoulders. Each incoming waved lifted her up and she felt a momentary disorientation. _Might as well._ She leaned forward and started to clumsily swim.

Michael stayed next to her. "Thanks for indulging. We'll head in when you want to."

"We're not chasing watermelons. I can stay out here a while."

* * *

Karen set down her book and looked at Derek. "You don't have to stay beside me the whole time."

He shrugged. "No problem. Just making sure no beach gorillas kick sand on you."

She lowered her sunglasses. "Why don't you just whiz on the chairs to mark your territory?"

He raised both hands, palms up, and smirked. "I don't want to be arrested for indecent exposure?" He dropped the smirk. "I want to stay with you."

"Okay, as long as you're here because of my charming personality and not some testosterone induced posturing."

He leaned over and kissed her. "How about both? What male could resist?"

"Those that don't have brain damage?"

"Dammit! That must be how you put that mind-control chip in."

CC stalked up to the base camp. She flipped a cooler open, ripped a soda from a six-pack and dumped the rest back in. "Ergh," she said as she sat on a towel and opened the can.

Karen smiled. "Trolling not going well?"

CC shook her head. "Bringing plenty in. I had to keep throwing them back as underage."

"Where's Jane?"

CC pointed up the beach to where Jane was attempting to teach a couple of young men how to foxtrot. The uneven sand and inappropriate music wasn't helping, but all appeared to be having a good time. "I do enough dancing for work."

* * *

Derek, Karen, CC and Jane stood around a small grill and looked around the crowded beach.

Derek scanned along the surf. "I don't see them. I wonder where they could've gone?"

Jane pointed down the beach. "There they are."

Holding his hand, Daria walked with Michael back to the group. She plopped onto a chair and said, "I'm not moving." She removed a small case from a backpack and put on her glasses.

Michael set a chair in front of hers. "I offered to carry you."

Jane looked concerned. "What happened?"

Michael reached down to a bag and retrieved his glasses. "We didn't pay attention to how far we had drifted down the beach while swimming."

Daria reached for his hand as he sat. "Whose fault is that?"

"We got a little lost on the way back," Michael said to Jane.

Daria looked at Michael. "We were going the wrong direction."

"We turned around."

"After I asked where we were."

Jane said, "Yep, the blind leading the blind."

"Men...just can't ask for directions," CC joked.

"Genetically encoded, must be." Karen added.

Derek recognized the losing battle. "Okay, we're guilty."

Beginning to rub Daria's feet, Michael said, "And I better make up for it."

"Now, let's get to a more important question." Derek turned toward the smoking grill. "Can we cook lunch now?"

Karen moved next to the grill. "Who's this 'we' you mentioned?"

He looked at his girlfriend. "You're not letting me near it, are you?"

She winked at him. "No, because I want my friends to be able to eat it."

"Okay, I promise only to watch."

"Good, maybe you'll learn something."

"You did succeed in teaching me how to boil water."

Daria perked up. "Hey, can you teach Jane?"

Jane turned. "That's enough, Morgendorffer. I've learned the basics of your one and only cookbook. You've even eaten my creations."

"I have an iron stomach. I lived for years on Mom's frozen lasagna and Dad's mystery meals."

Karen started putting burgers on the small grill. "Enough, already. I'm cooking. You'll eat what you get."

Michael looked around the group. "Says something about our cooking skills when the one-armed person is doing the grilling."

* * *

As the afternoon wore on, Daria and Karen sat on chairs talking while Derek and Michael ferried supplies to Karen's truck and dropped off the trash. Karen said, "So, you were too distracted to notice you were drifting. Anything particularly distracting?"

Daria lightly blushed. "I haven't really enjoyed swimming in almost as long as I can remember. Plus…um…having him next to me while wearing only this was…nice."

"I wondered." She looked at a small commotion on the beach. "Looks like Jane and CC hooked something interesting." Jane and CC were in a volleyball game with a several other young women against a similar sized group of men.

"I think Jane's feeling better, now."

"You still feel a little responsible for her, don't you?"

Daria gently nodded. "Ever since Tom."

"We'll just have to keep our eyes open."

"Hmm."

"I haven't said anything yet, but I'm glad you and Michael are together."

"You said that in your email."

"But not in person."

"Oh, thanks. It's nice that you and Derek are getting along so well."

Karen lightly blushed. "Very well. So, you actually dressed up for Michael."

Daria nodded. "Like I told you I would. He really appreciated it."

"Letting your romantic streak show again?"

"He does bring it out."

The game broke up and Jane ran over, slightly winded. "Daria, I know you can't live without a notepad around. Can I grab a page or two and a pencil?"

Daria reached into her backpack. "Phone numbers?"

"Yeah, a couple of them look pretty tasty."

"Jane, the beach bunny."

She flashed a wide grin back and said, "We really should do this more often." Jane grabbed the notepad. "Be back in a bit, and then we can go."

Karen watched Jane jog back to a couple of young men. "Yeah, she's feeling better."

* * *

Karen rolled out of bed in the morning and stood. "Going to take a while to get used to this bed." She quietly went about getting ready for the first day of fall classes. In the kitchen, she started coffee and prepared her breakfast.

Karen smiled at the familiar sight of her old dorm roommate's first-of-the-morning appearance. "Hey, Daria."

"Hmm." Daria went to the kitchen and returned minutes later with coffee and cereal. "Another fine morning you've gotten us into."

"Old habits die hard."

"You don't want them to."

Karen's vision shifted to Jane, stumbling into the dining area. "You and mornings really don't get along."

Jane frowned. "Blrch."

"Coffee's ready; go hook up an IV."

Jane slowly edged to the kitchen. "Thkyg."

Karen turned to Daria, who was nursing her coffee. "I was thinking. I've got Organic Chem. One at eight AM. Physics with Calc. One at nine-thirty, and World Lit One at eleven." She laughed a bit. "At least you're in that one."

A little more clear-headed, Daria nodded. "Yeah, and I've got Secondary Teaching Methods at eight and Poetry One at nine-thirty."

"And we both work after lunch. Wouldn't carpooling over on Tuesday and Thursday mornings make more sense? We could come back here for lunch, and then separate."

"Karen, sometimes it is frightening how much sense you can make this early in the morning. You are a mutant."

* * *

Karen sat in her truck after classes and groaned. "At least that's over for today."

Daria sat in the passenger seat. "I don't want to hear it. Let's go get some lunch."

"Deal. Let's stop by Cheap and Cheesy. I'm too lazy to fix something."

"I need a cholesterol fix."

"Ready for another workday of editing?"

Daria yawned. "If I can stay awake. Bet you get out of shoveling for the next couple weeks."

"Yeah, I got kicked on purpose so I wouldn't have to shovel zoo droppings."

"After this amount of time, I was expecting them to promote you."

"I am hoping."

* * *

After lunch, Karen reached the Franklin Park Zoo and went to the operations office. She said hello to various other workers as she passed through the building, stopping several times to explain the arm. After running the gauntlet, she reached her supervisor's office. At the sight of Karen, Sarah Wilkins got up from the desk and came to the door. "Welcome back to the zoo."

Karen leaned against the wall. "I got back to the zoo last week. This is just getting back to work."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

February 2005


	3. A Part That’s Gained

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the Thirtieth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**A Part That's Gained**

The tantalizing smell of lasagna wafted through the three-bedroom apartment Jane Lane shared with Daria Morgendorffer and Karen Myerson. After a day of class at Boston Fine Arts College and work at the arts and crafts program of the Boston Children's Hospital, Jane relaxed in her room and checked email.

She clicked on a message from Daria's cousin, Erin Chambers.

**To: ArtExtra  
****From: EChambers**

**Jane,**

**Happy to hear your classes are going well. I miss college.**

**At least Brian won't be wandering around on me as much now. He was picked up for another DUI and lost his license. But then, that means I get to drive him around whenever. At least I'll have a better idea of where he's at.**

**I have an interview for a new job on Wednesday. I have a really good feeling about it, and it will mean at least $2 an hour more. Plus, get me out of this hell-hole I'm working in now. Wish me luck.**

**Erin**

"Good luck, kid," Jane said to the monitor.

Jane had just hit the reply button when the front door slammed open and Karen's voice rang through the house. "Only me. Stay where you are and don't breathe for a few minutes." Rapid footsteps echoed through the apartment. "I don't want to talk about it. I only want a long shower."

Jane yelled toward the hallway, "Fall into something?"

From the hall came, "Not exactly."

Daria's voice yelled from the kitchen. "Good thing you got the cast off your arm last week, or you'd be soaking in it."

Karen started the shower and replied, "Thanks for that wonderful visual. I like you, too."

* * *

Toweling her light brown/dark blond hair dry, Karen emerged from the bathroom. She had a green towel wrapped around her, covering from breasts to upper thighs. Through the hallway door that opened into the living room, she could see a red-headed man in a Park Service uniform sitting on the sofa.

Karen sniffed and recognized the recipe Michael's mother had sent Daria. Karen said, "Daria's making lasagna; figures you'd be here for dinner."

Michael Fulton turned and quickly turned away. "Call it a weakness."

Karen chuckled. "More like an addiction. Has Daria said that you're cute when you blush?"

Jane looked in from her room. "What's he blushing about? He's seen you in less with your swimsuit."

Karen shrugged as she turned into her room. "Maybe because this looks like it could fall off at any moment?" She closed the door.

Jane snaked her head around the hallway door to look toward the kitchen. "I think his innocence turns Daria on."

Still pointedly facing the other direction, Michael said, "Sheesh, try to behave yourself."

Daria entered from the kitchen and looked at Jane. "Let's say I appreciate it very much."

Jane laughed. "When's dinner ready?"

"That's what I was coming in to tell everyone: it's ready, but self-serve. I am not my mother."

Jane rushed to the kitchen. "We're all grateful for that."

Daria folded her arms and looked at the empty doorway. "Should I be pleased, or concerned?"

Barefoot and pulling down a t-shirt over sweat pants, Karen walked up behind Daria. "Yes." Without pausing, she went into the kitchen.

Michael walked up to Daria and softly put his arms around her waist. "I'll wait until the she-wolves are done fighting over the kill."

After a quick look that Jane and Karen were still in the kitchen, Daria turned and lightly nibbled on Michael's neck. He closed his eyes in pleasure as Daria whispered in his ear, "You do realize that Jane is right."

He very gently moved a fingertip along her spine. Daria arched her back in response and he whispered, "You have the same effect on me."

He reluctantly released her and waved a hand toward the kitchen. "Shall we join them?"

"We better, or they'll only make more rude comments."

Jane was the first out of the kitchen with a full plate. "Michael, how's your new job at Boston National Historic Park?"

He shook his head. "Emptying trash cans is such exciting work."

Karen followed Jane. "On days like today, I'll trade ya."

Jane sat and asked, "So, what happened?"

Karen looked at her plate. "The hell with it, you asked. The chimps were not happy campers, and had surprisingly good aim."

* * *

"By the time I graduate, I'll fully understand the feeding strategies of vultures," Jane observed as she slowly drove through the parking lot of BFAC, looking for evidence of an open space. She spotted a student walking toward a car and pulling keys from his pocket. She sped up and got behind him, slipping in just ahead of another car attempting the same thing. His exiting car was barely clear of the space when the phoenix-decorated hood of her black sedan moved into it.

She checked her watch and said, "Crap. I'll barely be able to make it." Grabbing a backpack, she slid out of the car and locked it. Still working the pack onto her back, she started a fast jog across the lot.

* * *

Desperate to stay awake in the mind-numbing boredom of her Business Math class, Jane reached her left hand behind her thigh and pinched hard. In response, her blue eyes opened slightly wider. _I ran for this? Only a couple more minutes. Think straight C's in math. Come on Lane, you can do it._

The wiry, gray-haired professor teaching the class said, "Miss Lane. What is the answer to question twenty-seven?"

Swallowing, Jane forced her eyes to focus on the homework in front of her. She scanned down and found the question. "Um…three percent interest?"

"So, I see you're at least partially on this planet. Very good. Okay class, I can see most of you starting to nod off, that must mean the hour is almost up. Complete questions thirty-one through sixty for homework. Review on Thursday, your first test next Tuesday. Have a nice day."

Jane closed her notebook and dropped it in the backpack. She took her time closing the pack and putting it on. As she approached the door, she slowed to fall in step with a young woman with dark brown hair, walking with the aid of elbow crutches. Jane asked, "Nell, how's things?"

Jane's dorm neighbor from the spring before, Nell Girard, yawned and shook her head. "Wonderful."

Jane yawned and said, "Don't start that."

"Call it a gift."

"That keeps on giving. You need a ride today?"

"If you could."

"I'll get my car and meet you in front of Young Hall."

"Thanks."

* * *

Jane double-parked in front of a grocery store. Nell clambered out of the passenger door and adjusted her crutches. "Have fun with the kids."

Jane smiled. "Don't I always? Don't kill the customers."

"Eh, the boss frowns on that. However, I might consider killing one of the baggers if they miss my register and the customer expects me to get up to bag for them."

Jane laughed and shook her head. "Don't work too hard. See you Thursday."

"I'll try not to. Later."

After Nell closed the door, Jane accelerated away before the drivers backed up behind her became too disgruntled.

* * *

The arts and crafts room of Boston Children's Hospital was a minor maelstrom of activity. Jane walked through the diverse group of kids, each working on different projects. Though it was hectic at times, Jane eschewed group projects and encouraged every child toward their own creations. Painting, drawing, and sculpting were all fair game for the children.

Like the time in high school when she helped with the local children's ward, Jane found the work enjoyable and immensely rewarding. _I can't believe they're paying me to have so much fun._

"Miss Jane?"

She turned to see a bald, nine-year old boy, who was a chemotherapy patient. He looked paler than usual and swayed as he stood. Jane said, "Stan? Are you all right?"

He looked up and said, "I don't feel good."

She took his hand and said, "Why don't we go sit down for a bit?"

He slowly nodded and started to walk. After only a couple steps, Jane had to swoop down to catch him as he fell forward. "Damn!"

She carefully eased him to the floor and said to one of the other children, "Alicia, please push the call button for the nurse."

The red-haired girl looked at Jane and Stan for a moment with worry. Breaking her stare, she went to the call button and pushed it.

Jane mentally went through the emergency training she'd been given when she started. The boy was limp and his eyes had rolled back. _Oh, God. This is bad._

Jane took a deep breath to calm her nerves. His skin was clammy to the touch. When she didn't see motion in his chest, she fumbled with his wrist. After several attempts, she pressed fingers against his throat. _No…no._

She pulled up on the underside of his neck and pinched his nose. She gave him two quick puffs of air before locking her hands together over his chest. Working in fear of breaking his small ribs, she began the chest compresses. _Somebody, please get here soon._

* * *

The duty nurse walked down the hall and into the room. Once she saw Jane, the nurse yelled, "Hang on!" and ran over.

She motioned for Jane to briefly stop and Jane reluctantly did so. The nurse took only seconds to assess the child's condition and said, "Can you keep up the CPR for a couple more minutes?"

Jane nodded and started administering it again. The nurse said, "I'll be right back to help after I call this in."

Jane nodded again and concentrated on keeping her counts straight.

Maybe a minute later, the nurse was back. "I'll take over the ventilation."

Jane said, "Thanks," and nodded a couple times in pace with her compressions. "Now."

After the nurse breathed into the boy's lungs, Jane started the next set of compressions, this time giving a verbal count.

* * *

A doctor and several nurses rushed in with a gurney. The doctor said, "Let me in."

Jane crawled aside as the trauma crew began working over the boy. She staggered back and sat in a chair as her surroundings once again fell into focus.

The room was mostly clear and Jane saw her boss, Mrs. Isabel Marquez, ushering the last of the children from the room. The older woman turned and noticed Jane. She came over and sat next to the young woman.

Jane said, "Thanks, 'Bel."

'Bel put an arm around her. "No, you deserve the thanks. You kept your head and did the right thing."

"I hope he'll be okay."

"That I can't tell you."

Jane nodded.

The doctor said, "I've got a pulse. Get him up and on."

'Bel pulled Jane a little closer. "You've had quite a shock. Take the rest of the day off and recover."

"I don't know…I'm worried about him."

"He's in good hands. I'll call you when we hear anything."

Jane gave a weak smile. "Okay. You better call."

"I will."

Stan had disappeared behind the medical team and Jane couldn't see him as they rushed out of the room.

* * *

Jane came home to an empty apartment. Daria and Karen were still at work, so she had time to herself. She looked at the easel in her room and shook her head. "Nah, I need to run." She shed her work shirt and slacks and put on her trusty running shorts and shirt. Track shoes replaced boots and in moments she was jogging back down the outside stairs.

* * *

The run turned into a long one. Jane found herself dragging and heavily winded as she slowed at the front of the driveway and walked the rest of the way to cool down before going inside. She pulled mail from the box and began to idly sort it. Her legs felt limp as she pushed up the stairs. _Damn, that was a harder run than I thought_. She noticed the return label on one large envelope: Literature in Action. _Looks like Daria made another sale. Good for her._

Inside the house, Jane finished sorting the mail and checked the answering machine. She saw that there were two messages and hit the play button.

Beep

"Hey, Karen. Derek. I'll be running about half an hour late tonight. Sorry."

Jane pressed the 'Save Message' button and played the next.

Beep

"Jane, this is 'Bel. Stan is still critical. The doctors are still trying to figure out what happened, but they say you starting CPR right away probably saved his life. Close calls like this are part of the job; you handled yourself like a pro. Thanks. I wish I had more news for you. Good night."

Jane breathed a sigh of some relief. In the aftermath of the run, she felt sore muscles in her legs and her sticky skin. "Bath."

She went straight to her room and tossed the sweaty clothes into the hamper. After walking naked to the bathroom, she started water in the tub and said, "I could use a little extra to relax. Karen, I owe you." Jane picked up a bottle and poured borrowed bubble bath into the hot water.

Jane climbed in and slid down, enjoying the relaxing heat. Once the water was deep enough, she reached up with a foot to shut off the water and closed her eyes. "Ahhh."

* * *

Looking at her prune-like hands, Jane heard a quiet, "Yes!" come from the dining room, which was just about the most demonstrative her best friend was about things.

Jane sat up and loudly said, "Congrats, Daria."

"Thanks. You're home early."

"Yeah."

"You feeling okay? I know the hospital doesn't want you around if you're sick."

"I'm fine."

"Then what?"

Jane stood and let the water drain off before grabbing a towel. "Daria, give me a minute, will you?"

"Um…sure."

* * *

Combing her still-damp hair, Jane left her room and heard her stomach growl. "It's my turn for dinner, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"We wouldn't, by chance, have any of your lasagna left over, would we?"

"Are you kidding?"

"More like hoping."

Daria looked closely at Jane. "I'll give you a hand, but you need to tell me what's bothering you."

"Damn, Morgendorffer. It's getting hard to hide stuff from you."

"Practice. Come on, pretend I've brow-beaten you into talking, like you would me."

"Because it will save you the effort?"

"And you the annoyance."

"Deal."

* * *

Pulling a covered dish from the microwave, Daria said, "That's a hell of a story. I don't know what we would have done if Dad's heart had actually stopped three years ago."

Jane stirred hamburger and onions in a skillet. "If they hadn't made me take the course, I wouldn't have known what to do."

"How does it feel to be a heroine?"

"What do you mean?"

"Heroine, feminine form of hero."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Daria, I was scared to death."

"And you did the right thing. Sounds like a heroine to me."

"Heroines are supposed to do something dangerous."

Daria checked the vegetables in the dish. "Not necessarily dangerous, brave."

"And I still don't know if it was enough." Jane looked in the skillet. "This is ready," she said as she drained off the excess grease.

Daria put the dish in front of Jane. "Just dump it in and stir."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And don't call me ma'am."

* * *

Partway through dinner, Jane set her fork down. "Daria, when I said I was scared to death, I don't think you really understood what I meant."

Daria managed a "Hmm?" past the food she was chewing.

"All of those kids end up meaning something to me. I was scared that I might lose one of them."

Daria finished what she was chewing on. "That's understandable."

Jane looked at her plate. "Daria…maybe I wasn't so much scared of what was happening to him; I was scared of how it would hurt me."

Daria pondered a second. "Self-interest is often a strong motivator and it could have been part of why you helped so fast."

Jane looked blankly at her friend.

Daria asked her, "Why did you think it would hurt you?"

"Because he's a really nice, talented kid that I care about."

Daria smiled. "Exactly. Because you care. That, above all, is the reason you were so fast to help. Part of you may have wanted to avoid being hurt…the reason for that was how much you care for the children. That is an honest motivation, and something to be proud of."

Jane smiled back. "Thanks, I think I needed that. But, 'Bel said it's something I need to prepared for. Close calls are part of the job." She stopped and swallowed. "Someday, we are going to lose one of those kids, maybe even Stan. I don't know if I'll be ready."

"Jane, I would be worried if you ever were truly ready for something like that."

* * *

The warm and genuine praise not only from Daria, but from Karen and her boyfriend, Derek, had felt good and compensated some for her continued worry over Stan. The latter two had gone off on their date, while Daria had to be shooed away to go through the editor's comments on the story the pulp adventure magazine had accepted. Jane found she still couldn't concentrate on painting and had mindlessly watched a couple hours of television before deciding to give up.

"Good night, Daria," Jane said down the hall.

Daria leaned back in her desk chair and said, "This is early, are you okay?"

"I'm a bit drained after everything."

"I can see that. Get some sleep. You did something wonderful today. You deserve the rest."

"Thanks."

Jane crawled into bed and shut off the light. _I hope Stan's going to be all right._

* * *

Jane skipped her last class of the day and made an early trip to the hospital. 'Bel intercepted Jane in the hall and handed her a bundle of paper. "I figured you were going to come in early. I hate to do this, but you need to fill out an incident report for what happened yesterday."

Frustrated at not being able to see Stan, she said, "Why me?"

"You were the first staff member to respond."

Jane frowned in frustration. "Paperwork."

"It's a way of life around here. Be glad you don't have to put up with the reams the nurses go through every day."

"Great, let's get it over with."

"Use my office. I'll hold the fort until you're done. Just drop it in my box."

"They don't want this typed, do they?"

"Semi-neat printing is sufficient. The administrators can read doctor's handwriting; yours is nowhere near that bad."

* * *

Jane shook the mild stiffness from her hand and tossed the forms into her boss's mailbox. She went to the room and immediately noticed the large banner suspended from the ceiling.

**OUR HEROINE**

Each letter was done differently, some painted, one glitter, some strips paper. One child's hand for each.

Mrs. Marquez and the assembled children broke into applause when Jane entered. She stood still, staring and once again finding herself having an unusual reaction. She was speechless.

The more mobile patients moved up and buried Jane in a group hug. Jane stood still, a warm smile growing on her face and her eyes becoming moist. After a few moments, she slowly bent her knees and lowered herself among the group, hugging each one.

Clearing the first group, Jane moved to those in wheelchairs or who movement was too unsteady to risk in a cluster of children. She went to the raised arms and smiling faces, and each embrace warmed her a bit more. At the end, she faced 'Bel.

"You had to make sure I filled out the paperwork right away."

"I should've made you do it yesterday, but I decided to let you slack off a little."

Jane looked over her shoulder. "Thanks."

"It was their idea. I only organized it and kept you distracted."

Jane turned and looked at the assembled children.

'Bel put a hand on Jane's shoulder. "They really care for you. I haven't had anyone who seems to touch them like you do."

Jane's voice caught with emotion for a moment. "The feeling's mutual. Each one of them touches me."

* * *

'Bel took over the room for her and said, "I got word that Stan was moved to regular room, five forty-one. I think it's about your break time."

Jane's face brightened as she said, "Thanks," and rushed to the supply room and emerged soon after with a small case. A bit of walking and an elevator ride later, she stood outside room 541.

After a moment to collect her wits, Jane took a deep breath and went in. "Hi, Stan."

The tired-looking boy looked over from his bed. "Miss Jane?" An IV was hooked up to his left arm and supplemental oxygen tubing crossed under his nose.

Jane felt a great sense of relief at hearing his voice.

An equally-tired looking woman in her early thirties sat in a chair next to the bed. Her eyes registered some kind of recognition. "Hello, miss."

"Hi, you must be Mrs. Rollins. Nice to meet you. He's a great kid."

"Thanks."

Jane rolled the bed table over and placed the case on it. "I work in the arts and crafts room. Stan, I brought something for you."

After flipping the case open, she removed the watercolor Stan had been working on and placed it on the table. Inside the case was a set of watercolors, brushes, a rag and a small cup. "Be right back." Jane smiled and took the cup to the bathroom, returning with it half full of water.

Stan looked up. "I'm sorry I didn't clean my brush yesterday."

"Somebody got it for you. You were a little too busy to notice."

His eyes closed and he nodded for a moment. He recovered and said. "I'm tired. Can I work on this later?"

Jane patted his hand. "I'm leaving these for you. I already cleared it with the floor nurse. Work on it when you want to. That's the joy of art."

"I like you, Miss Jane."

"I like you, Stan. You get better soon so you can join the rest of us, okay?"

"I hope so."

Jane patted his hand again. "I have to go now. I'll check on you when I can."

Mrs. Rollins followed Jane as she exited the room. Outside, she stopped Jane and said, "You're the woman who helped my son yesterday."

Jane nodded.

She grabbed Jane's hand with both hers. "I appreciate that so much. I've been so worried about my little boy."

Jane felt an unusual blush on her cheeks. "I only used the training the hospital gave me."

"You're also modest."

Jane thought in surprise, _I can't recall ever being called that._ "Um…I meant…"

She squeezed Jane's hand in reassurance and released. "It's okay. Stan has told me about how much he enjoys painting. I can see why."

Jane looked at her watch. "Um…I try. Mrs. Rollins, I really do need to get downstairs to work. I'm only on break. I hope Stan gets better soon."

"So do I. Thanks."

* * *

"Hey, I had to learn about necking sometime." Jane grinned at the red-faced couple disengaging from each other on the sofa as she opened the apartment door.

Daria put her glasses on. "Funny, Lane. You're home early again."

"Finally getting even for that time you walked in on me and Tom. I went in early today."

"Okay, we're even. Happy?"

Jane quickly nodded. "Yeah."

Michael finished putting his glasses on. "Hey, what did I do to you?"

Daria cocked her head toward Michael and smiled. "Nothing. That means you need to get even with her."

Jane smiled and headed for the kitchen. "Just try."

"That…sounded like a challenge."

Jane came back from the kitchen with a glass of water. "It's Karen's night to cook. Do you know what's planned?"

"No clue."

Jane headed for her room. "I want to get out of my work clothes."

After a couple minutes, Daria gently knocked on her door. "Can I come in?"

Jane finished pulling her shorts on. "Sure."

"I'm sorry. We didn't realize how late it was."

Jane gave a light laugh. "Daria, don't worry. You two are allowed."

"I know, it's…I don't want you feeling lonely."

"I'm not." Jane smiled at the memory. "I had a great day. The kids threw a party for me today. Kool-aid and dry hospital cake, but they really meant it."

"Sounds like it meant a lot to you."

"I did. Plus, Stan's doing a lot better and into a regular room. After dinner, I'm going to run back to see him."

"That's even better."

Jane smiled at her best friend. "Do you remember that new song Trent introduced at the cast party?" Off-key, Jane sang the last verse:

_Love set the day,  
__That made our eyes to see.  
__And put us on the way,  
__To where we had to be._

Returning to her normal voice, she said, "For now, this is where I have to be. I love those kids. Eventually, I'll find somebody like you found Michael. But that's some time in the future and I'm not going to worry about it." Jane looked at Daria's eyes. "And neither are you. The love I get from my kids is what I need now. Just like what you have with Michael is what you need. This is right, I know it."

"Jane?"

"Daria, I've always kind of worried about being left alone. Between the way Mom and Dad were always on the road and the way everyone but Trent left as soon as they got out of high school, there were times I felt abandoned. Kind of the way I'd felt when you were with Michael and Karen was with Derek. But now, I really know I won't be left behind. I have good friends and I have a bunch of good kids who need me."

Daria looked over her dear friend. Just as Jane had learned to read Daria, the reverse was true. All the signs were of a happiness Daria hadn't seen in Jane before. "You're starting to make sense. But, what about that scare yesterday?"

"It was an eye-opener that I won't forget." Jane looked down, her good mood temporarily gone. "I know that someday we won't be able to save one of the kids."

She looked straight into Daria's eyes. "That is going to tear me apart. At least as much as when you lost Mrs. Blaine. But Lord Byron was right. The love I share with those kids is worth the pain I will feel later."

Jane abruptly hugged Daria. "Because I know I have such good friends to stay by me."

Daria flinched slightly, and then embraced her friend. Quietly and gently, she said, "I understand."

"Thank you." They stayed for a moment before Jane smirked. "Oh, by the way. When you and Michael decide to do more, please keep it in your room and lock the door. There are some things I want to learn on my own."

* * *

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.

March 2005


	4. Esteeming Lysistrata

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-First story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

Esteeming Lysistrata

The bright southern California sun shining through the window of her Pepperhill University dorm room created a glow around Quinn Morgendorffer. From a packed-to-the-limit closet and extra clothes rack, to her posters and cosmetic supplies, Quinn's side of the room was a bright explosion of popularity, just like her.

Using the full-length mirror on her closet door, she artfully examined the trendy clothes on her attractive figure. Satisfied all was precisely in place, she started combing her long, bright red hair and chirped, "I can't believe how many boys there are to choose from around here."

"Yeah, they're just falling all over themselves," muttered a small-framed young woman sitting cross-legged on the opposite bed. Her side of the room was a goth-like study in gray and black that matched the long, soft, black-brown hair that spilled out around her in a wide circle. Fran Lawrence held up a book. "Why do you think I read these bodice-rippers? Unless I find a nice blind man, it's about all I'm going to get."

Quinn turned to her roommate. "I'm sorry."

"Quinn, we've been through this before." Fran shook her head. "Don't let me stop you from having a good time. Living vicariously through your stories is as much fun as these books. I can listen to you for hours. But, I still reserve the right to bitch now and then."

Quinn felt a pang of guilt looking at the tiny, shapely girl with exotic gray eyes flanked by long lashes and perfectly arched brows. If not for the disfiguring scars that remained across the young woman's lower face after the miracles of corrective surgery, Quinn knew Fran would attract just as many boys as she did.

"It still isn't fair. We've been here for a month and a half. Even if you wear all that black goth stuff, you're one of the sweetest people I know. I'm getting you a date for tonight."

"Quinn, please." She finished off an energy bar and tossed the wrapper into a small trash can.

Quinn shivered at the thought of the scars that ran across the girl's stomach and the reason her friend had to almost constantly eat. "Fran, please let me try. Just this once. You could use the break."

Fran felt her defenses weaken. _Quinn's so popular. Maybe she can find me a date. That would mean so much._ Hopeful, she said, "Okay. If you can get me a date, I'll agree to go."

Quinn opened her cell phone and consulted a small planner. She found the name and entered the phone number. "Hi, Arnold. Look, do you have any nice pledge brothers that would like a date tonight?...This would really mean a lot to me…She's my roommate…Yeah…Dean?…okay, great…See both of you at six."

She closed the phone. "Okay, I've got you a date. I've met him, his name is Dean and he's one of my date's pledge brothers. He seems really nice. Now to get you properly ready."

"Quinn…I didn't hear you say anything…" Fran pointed to her face.

"I'm a Tri-Theta pledge and you'll be double dating with me. They're pledge brothers in an ally fraternity. Don't worry."

Quinn pointed to Fran's closet. "I know what you've got in there. You're almost as bad as my sister. We're going shopping to get you something decent to wear. When I'm done, you'll look so hot, nobody can resist you."

Worried, Fran said, "Are you sure?"

"Do I know clothes?"

* * *

"He doesn't know what it means." A familiar voice from behind mildly startled Raft University sophomore, Daria Morgendorffer, from her reading in the library. "He's got the speech memorized. Just enjoy the nice man's soothing voice." 

Daria looked up from her Poetry I book to see her friend and roommate, Jane Lane, leaning over her shoulder. Daria asked, "What are you doing…"

"October fourteenth, four years ago. Happy anniversary, Amiga."

"Only you would remember something like that." The thought of how much her friend cared was always comforting. "Thanks. I wonder if students are still being subjected to that self-esteem class?"

Jane grinned. "Nope, Claire canned it."

"Students for years to come will rejoice that Ms. Defoe was appointed principal of Lawndale High, just for that one act."

"Mr. Barch wasn't happy about it."

Daria's face whitened and she swallowed hard. "The thought of those two actually married…"

"It gives me the willies, too." Jane suppressed a bad memory. "Be glad you didn't see them in the teacher's lounge."

Daria closed her eyes and muttered, "I refuse to allow any visuals to appear."

"On the bright side, Claire says that Mrs. Barch has backed off some this year and smiles occasionally. Though what those smiles are for…"

Daria closed her eyes tighter. "Cool thoughts...a river running to the ocean...no unwanted visuals appearing."

"Getting away from such unpleasantries, the two of us need to do something to celebrate. I know you have a date with your tame Y-chromosome tonight, but I think pizza and an afternoon of classic _Sick, Sad World_ are in order." Jane grinned wider and pulled a package from her backpack. "I just got the complete Season One tape set. We can watch some of the classics from when we first got together."

Daria put the book down. "Like Artie's first appearance?" She put a marker in the book and closed it. "I'm in. Let me get this book checked out. Did you drive over, or take the bus?"

"Bus. I didn't feel like fighting traffic today."

"My car's in the staff lot."

"I'll meet you there."

* * *

"That's it." Hands on hips, Quinn proudly stood in front of Fran, who was wearing a deep blue dress that fit almost as if tailored. The hem was diagonally cut from mid-calf on one side to about one quarter up her opposite thigh. A slender belt with a gold buckle accented her waist and a gold brooch rested on the center of her chest. 

Fran said, "It's pretty."

"Pretty, nothing. It's a knockout."

"I don't know. This is an awful lot for one dress."

"It's an investment."

"It's so pretty." Fran looked in the mirror again. "Okay, you talked me into it."

"Great, now for shoes."

* * *

Daria held her hand over her mouth as she burped. "Jane, I didn't think it was possible to put that many different toppings on a pizza. How did you find that place?" Daria stopped to allow traffic to clear before turning left into the driveway of their place. 

"Jed took me there last weekend."

"Jed…that was the guy with the Cthulhu nose stud."

"Yeah. He could also do some interesting things with that tongue stud of his."

"Not listening…not hearing." Daria spotted a white sedan parked in the driveway. "Whose car is that?"

Jane looked at the car again and noted the Virginia plates. She placed a hand on Daria's shoulder. "Um…that looks like your cousin Erin's car."

"Erin? I wonder what she's doing here?"

Jane sheepishly turned to her friend. "I…ah…kind of told her she could stay here a while if things hit the fan with Brian. I bet they did."

* * *

"Whoa, dude! If that brunette chick with Quinn is my date, you can set me up any time." 

Quinn waved to the group of young men approaching from behind Fran and said, "Your date looks cute."

Fran lightly bit her lip. "I know you spent a lot of time on makeup to minimize my scars, but I'm still worried you didn't tell him."

Two of the men, both blond, separated from the others. One moved to Quinn, and said. "Heya, Quinn. Ready for a good time?"

The other walked around and turned to see Fran. Eyes open, he stepped back. "Freakin' hell! Arnold, what the hell kind of crap are you pullin' on me?"

Fran stood still, slightly shaking.

Arnold turned and winced. He said, "Quinn, that's really uncool. I thought you were setting Dean up with another pledge sister. Not some freak."

Quinn was speechless in disbelief.

Three other guys came up. Laughing, one said, "Hell dude, she's still got a hot body. Jus' put a bag on her an' things'll be fine."

A second said, "Or just make sure you stay behind her." He barked and broke into louder laughter.

Arnold stepped over to Dean. "Dude, man. I'm sorry. I was tricked. Let's ditch these two and find some real fun."

Dean nodded. "I'm with ya."

The third guy whooped, "Hell, I still wouldn't take the risk with double bags!" Laughing loudly, he motioned with his head and those three started down the sidewalk. Dean shoved his hands in his pocket and followed.

Arnold shrugged and said to Quinn, "Sorry, but that trick really wasn't funny. I thought Tri-Thetas were cooler than that." He turned and strutted away, catching up with the others.

Fran turned and buried her face against her roommate, sobbing loudly. "Quinn, I'm sorry."

Quinn smoldered at the departing group and unconsciously put an arm around the diminutive young woman. "You have nothing to apologize for. Those guys were Class A jerks."

"Thanks, but it's hopeless."

"You're a really nice girl that they shouldn't treat like that."

Fran pulled a napkin from her purse and wiped away the tears, smearing her makeup in the process. "I don't expect everyone to warm to me right away. I just wish they wouldn't be so mean."

"They need to be taught a lesson."

"How?"

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "I don't know. But, I bet my sister might have an idea."

* * *

Daria and Jane entered the apartment to find the third resident, Karen Myerson, seated on the sofa, talking with Daria's cousin, Erin Chambers. Erin turned to face the opening door and said, "Daria, Jane. Hi." 

Jane smiled and said, "Hi, Erin. What's shakin'?"

Daria said, "Hi. If you don't mind my asking, what brings you here?"

"I was in town and thought I would stop by and be a little sociable. Daria, I haven't seen you since the wedding. I'd met Jane at Gramdma's last summer, so I thought this would be nice."

Daria continued into the apartment. "So, what brings you to Boston?"

Erin looked a little embarrassed. "My boss needed some papers hand-carried to the Boston branch office this weekend. I volunteered to bring them up. I guess I should have called ahead, but I wanted to surprise you."

"Oh. Well, it is a surprise, and so far, a pleasant one."

Jane came over and sat on the sofa arm. "Anything else? Like, finally tired of your POS husband?"

Erin's smile faded. "I used the trip to drop off my resume at some places that are open on the weekend, and to mail a few more." She looked at Daria. "Jane and I have been emailing ever since she unveiled that portrait. She's made a good griping board for me to talk about Brian."

Daria looked at Jane. "She is good at that. So, it sounds like you and Brian are on the way out."

"You don't need to panic, I won't call your mother to handle the legal work. I don't want any premature word getting out."

Daria pulled up one of the folding chairs and had a seat. "Okay, it sounds like you're laying the groundwork before leaving him and want to keep it quiet."

"Yes. Jane said I could stay here if I really needed to. I'll only need tonight."

Daria acquiesced. "Jane and I have some leftover pizza, are you hungry?"

Karen perked up and said, "Pizza?"

Erin said, "Thanks." She looked at Daria. "I really should have called. I hope I haven't spoiled any plans."

Daria sensed the need in Erin. "Nothing that you can't join."

Jane went to the television and put in a tape. "Do you like _Sick, Sad World_?"

* * *

That evening, Daria leaned into the gentle embrace of her boyfriend, Michael Fulton as they watched a movie. She frowned, pulled a vibrating cell phone from her belt and whispered to Michael. "I better check this. Quinn or my folks would only call late if it's important." 

He kissed her forehead. "I'll save your seat."

She kissed his cheek and quickly slipped outside of the auditorium. She opened the phone and quietly answered, "Hello."

Quinn blurted out, "Daria! I need your help!"

"Okay, calm down. What kind of emergency is it?"

"My roommate's date blew her off! Mine got mad at me over it and they both left."

Daria signed as tension released. "Quinn…that doesn't sound like an emergency. Can this wait? I'm in the middle of something."

"Daria! They were completely mean to Fran. She's really hurt."

"Okay, something more than a simple blow-off. But, was anyone injured?"

"No, but Fran's really upset."

"Are you in any immediate danger?"

"No."

"Okay, this isn't an emergency. Take care of Fran; I'll call back in a couple hours so we can talk about it. Okay?"

"Um."

"Look, I'll cut things short tonight with Michael and I'll call you as soon as I get home."

"Michael? Oh, yeah. It must be almost ten in Boston."

"It is. I know this is important to you, that's why I'll call you back."

"Okay. Remember, please."

"I promise to call."

"You keep your promises. I'll wait."

"Bye." Daria closed the phone and turned back to the auditorium. Pausing at the door, she thought, _something bad happened or Quinn wouldn't have called me._

Inside, she sat back down next to Michael and whispered as he put his arm around her. "That was Quinn. Do you mind if we tie things up early tonight?"

"Is she in some kind of trouble?"

"I don't think so, but something's going on that's serious enough for her to call me on a Saturday night."

Michael kissed Daria's temple. "You're right; something must be going on. I can get a bus home tonight if you don't want to drop me off."

"Thanks. The more I think about this, the more I'm worried. I'm going to take you up on the offer."

"Even if she's a pain, I worry about my little sister, too. I hope you can help."

* * *

Quinn closed the phone and went over to sit next to Fran, still in her dress and half-curled on the bed. "My sister will call back later." 

"Thanks." Fran sat up. "But, what can she do?"

"She's smart. She'll come up with something."

"I can handle people being shocked. I know it's natural to be scared, but it still hurts when they get angry."

Quinn thought some of the ways she and her high school friends had behaved toward others. _It really was the same thing, just aimed in a different direction._

Fran blew her nose in a tissue. and crawled across the bed to a box of snack bars. She opened one and started on it. "Dammit, all this and I haven't eaten lately. I'm starving."

Quinn continued thinking. _Scared. In a way, I think we were scared in the Fashion Club. Scared of anything different, scared of anything that threatened our position. Scared of anything that might affect…our looks._

Quinn toyed with the edge of a sheet. "I'm sorry, I thought I could get them to focus on the rest of you and that they'd be nice, like Tau-Psi pledges are supposed to be toward us. I didn't think I'd need to tell them anything"

Suddenly angry, Fran looked at Quinn. "And you shouldn't. Even if my looks surprised them, they could at least have remembered that I'm a person with feelings." After a few more bites on her snack, she settled down and said, "In some ways, that's why I started hanging around with the goths. They thought it was cool that I could scare people. That was fun for a while, but now it's old."

Quinn tried some humor. "At least you didn't get a bunch of piercings."

Fran's hand went to the scars on her stomach and she quickly shut down the memory of jagged metal driven through her in the accident that also scarred her face. "Trust me, the concept of intentionally running metal objects through any part of my body has zero appeal."

* * *

Daria read the note left on the dining table. 

_Erin and I are going out to frighten the local villagers. Don't wait up for us (as if you ever do). If any mobs with torches show up, you can pretend they're birthday candles for you to blow out. _

Jane.

"Boston, beware," Daria muttered as she went to her room. "I'd often pictured Jane and me doing things like that. I must admit a part of me wanted to. Funny how our lives change." 

Daria sat at her computer desk and kicked off her boots while it booted up. She opened the cell phone and hit Quinn's speed-dial number.

Quinn didn't allow the first ring to finish. "Hello!"

"Hi, it's me."

"Thanks, Daria."

"Take it slowly and remember to breathe. Tell me what's going on."

Daria was glad she was seated while listening to the story. Dean and Arnold had sounded worse than those two idiot boys that had tormented her for years in Highland. She thought of many ways she had faced her appearance, both good and bad. Through middle school and high school, Daria had felt unpopular and like an outcast, but she had never really been subjected to such direct insults.

Daria also remembered the highly unorthodox experiment that Mrs. Barch had performed for the class in high school. She had the super-popular quarterback, Kevin Thompson, dressed up in an 'ugly' disguise and report back on how people reacted differently. However, this was a case of real life, and Fran couldn't remove the makeup.

Daria said, "Quinn, those guys were incredibly jerky. They do need a lesson."

"That's why I called you. You were always so good at getting even."

"I don't want you or Fran getting into any trouble over this. Idiots like that aren't worth it."

"Daria, uh…this has made me think about some of the ways I used to act in high school. I'm sorry."

"Quinn…thanks. But, don't worry about that now."

"I'll try not to." Quinn looked out the window toward some of the Sorority houses. She would be moving to the Theta-Theta-Theta house next year. "I can't believe that brothers from an ally fraternity would treat a pledge and her friend like that. It's all part of the togetherness thing that the guys were supposed to treat us nice."

Daria's eyes opened. "Quinn, I may have an idea. You're a sorority pledge in good standing, right?"

"Duh."

"I think you need to get your sisters to help."

"What can they do?"

"Stand with you. Have any of your classes assigned the ancient Greek play, _Lysistrata_, for you to read?

"No, what's that got to do with this?"

"A method the women used to convince the men of something."

* * *

The next morning, Daria followed her nose out into the kitchen. Karen was cleaning up from her breakfast, which always smelled good. 

"Hey," Karen said as Daria entered the room.

"Hmmm." Daria pulled bread from a package and put it in the toaster. "What's Erin's condition out there?"

"Pretty good. It looks like Jane kept her out of trouble."

Daria removed a jar of jelly from the refrigerator and opened it. "Yesterday was the most time I've ever spent with her. I thought growing up with one Barksdale was bad; having two close-by must've been a nightmare."

"I hope she can find a way out."

Daria fumbled for a butter knife from a drawer. "When Erin and Brian got married, Amy and I ditched the reception and headed to a bowling alley for cheese fries. Brian got there ahead of us and was already well into a beer."

"Which would be about the time of the brawl Amy told me about."

"Yeah."

"I feel sorry for her. Stuck in a marriage with someone like that. It must be awful."

"Same here. It sure seems to be the weekend for dealing with jerk guys."

Karen looked at Daria, perplexed. "Michael do something?"

"What?" Daria shook her head. "No. I got a call from Quinn. A bunch of idiots from an ally frat really insulted and hurt her roommate over how she looks."

"Ouch."

"I think this is the first time Quinn's been at the receiving end of that kind of hostility, even if just the shrapnel."

"And she called you for advice on getting back at them."

"Well, yes."

"I'd be worried, but, well, Quinn doesn't have the same…talents…as you do."

"That's why I suggested something more suited for her, that I could never pull off."

* * *

"Do we know what we're doing?" Fran, almost on the edge of panic, asked Quinn as they walked along a sidewalk toward the Tri-Theta house. 

"I think so."

"Quinn, this will make me the center of attention."

"I know, isn't it great?"

"No. I'm scared stiff."

"Don't be, I'm with you."

"That helps, a little. But, I'd rather hide."

Quinn stopped just outside the house. "I know. But, my sister's right. That will only let those jerks get away with it."

Fran looked up the steps of the imposing building. "Let's get this over with, before I run away."

* * *

While the sorority president introduced her, Quinn rapidly scanned her clothes, making sure everything was perfect. Inspection over, she approached the podium to address the gathered sisterhood. "Many of you have met my friend and roommate, Fran Lawrence." She gestured to her at the back of the room. 

Fran managed to maintain a smile and not hide her face. _I can't believe this is all for me._

Murmurs of approval came from the gathering before Quinn said, "We had a double-date last night with two Tau-Psi brothers."

Quinn recounted the events of the night before, naming all five men involved. As the story unfolded, the gathering became restless and whispers abounded. Quinn looked at the crowd reaction. _Daria, you may act clueless about popularity, but this was a great idea._

"If they insult a sweet girl like Fran…" Quinn paused and looked at her roommate. "…Then we should stand by her. We know who they are. Ask your friends to help. Until they apologize, no dates."

The crowd rose in unison, clapping.

Quinn was mobbed as she stepped down. Ideas, suggestions and opinions on additional punishments were offered. Frighteningly, there were some that even Quinn's man-hating high school science teacher, Mrs. Barch, would consider too extreme. Several visitors said that they would pass the word on to their sororities, for them to pass the word onto all of their friends.

The initial applause almost caused Fran to run from the room. After, she was speechless as girls swarmed around her. Her discomfort at the attention was ameliorated some by the sense of support and compassion around her.

* * *

With an overnight bag slung on her shoulder, Erin prepared to leave while Daria, Jane and Karen gathered at the door to see her off. She looked at the three independent women with envy. The prior afternoon spent watching and commenting on _Sick, Sad World_, or just life around them, had been enlightening. Watching the young women being themselves had driven home how much Erin had become an appeaser, just like her mother, Rita. 

She said, "This trip started out as an attempt to be independent; you three gave me the inspiration to finish the job."

Daria smiled. "If watching us make snide comments at _Sick, Sad World_ is an inspiration, I think we should be worried."

Jane lightly backhanded Daria's shoulder. "Hey, I don't get called an inspiration often." She smiled at Erin. "Go on, I can listen to more."

Karen leaned against the stair rail. "Yeah, Jane's usually called a bad influence."

Jane grinned back. "Funny how inspiration feels about the same."

Erin laughed. "Just what I mean, and what I needed. Thanks for letting me stay."

Daria nodded. "No problem, if you didn't mind the sofa."

"And I'll remember to call next time," Erin said.

Soberly, Jane said, "Erin, be careful with everything. With some of the places my brother has played, I know drunks can get real irrational."

"Trust me, I know. That's why I'm doing things this way. Once I'm prepared, I only plan on seeing him in court."

"What about Grandma and Aunt Rita?" Daria asked.

"I don't know. Grandma will be furious, Mom will be relieved. She never liked Brian. As a warning, when I fall out of favor, Grandma will probably start eying you more closely."

Daria was surprised. "Me? I'd figure she'd target Quinn."

"You're closer."

"Great."

Erin started down the stairs. "I really need to get going. It'll be after dark by the time I get home."

All three waved and watched Erin drive away. Daria looked at her friends. "You are now deeply involved in the Barksdale women's eternal feuding. None of the participants are signatories of the Geneva Convention, so no tactic is considered off-limits. Body armor is recommended."

Daria stayed outside for a few extra moments. _I wonder if Grandma suspects? She has called me twice to just talk since Jane made that trip down there._

* * *

Monday morning, Fran held her bed sheet over her head. "I don't want to go out there." 

Quinn started rolling up the sheet from Fran's feet. "It won't work if you hide."

Fran sat up and dropped the sheet. "The girls were great last night…but I don't know if I can face the whole school today."

Quinn looked straight in her eyes. "You can, just like you face it any other day."

"It's not the same."

Quinn held her friend's shaking hand. "No, it's better."

* * *

After the 'date boycott' story ran in that morning's edition of _The Peppermill_, neither Quinn nor Fran could go anywhere without a small crowd of supporters. With Quinn's support, Fran very slowly became less agitated amid all the activity. Every time Fran smiled, Quinn could see a tiny bit more of the shy girl come out of hiding.

* * *

Frustrated that they were _persona non grata_ among a large number of women on campus, the five young men went to their fraternity brothers for support. In what became known in Pepperhill lore as "The Great Bonehead Ad," the fraternity bought a quarter page in the Tuesday edition of _The Peppermill._

**Public Notice:**

**We stand with our pledges through thick and thin. We will not tolerate this sexual extortion to force unnecessary apologies from our brothers. If these girls can't tolerate a little joke after being dishonest themselves, they should just grow up. **

**The Brothers of Tau-Psi**

Fran sat on a bench in Hill Plaza. She read the ad over and over, trying to believe it. She quietly said, "Maybe the whole lot of you needs to grow up." 

Fran still felt the hurt as strongly as that night. But now, she no longer felt lost and the anger had burned down to determination. The doubt was gone. With firmness in her eyes, she stood up and showed her paper to several nearby women. After a few quick words, they nodded and walked away, to talk to others. Soon, they separated to talk to more. Fran walked around the Plaza, speaking to every young woman she saw, and several young men who seemed supportive.

As the day progressed, the brothers of Tau-Psi began to hear either directly or by answering machine:

"I have to cancel tonight. I can't do a thing with my attitude."

"I'm going to spend the next week washing my hair."

"Why don't you just put a paper bag on one of your brothers?"

"Forget it, pig."

"The interior of your car clashes with my self-esteem."

"If you want a girl interested in you, try a phone sex number."

"When you talk your buddies into behaving in a civilized manner; I'll talk to you."

"I hope you enjoy nights of brotherhood, because you won't with me."

However, a few were different:

"So, I hear you're suddenly available."

"I think we can show you and your buddies a good time."

These were relatively scarce and drew frowns from the Tri-Thetas.

* * *

Sitting at her work desk early that evening, Fran closed her cell phone and sat back in her chair with a pleasant surprise on her face. 

Quinn looked over from her desk and lightly smiled. "That sounded promising."

"That was a guy I met on the Plaza today. He asked me out for dinner tomorrow night."

"That's good. What's he like?"

Fran looked down slightly. "He's kind of cute. Was very polite, didn't flinch and didn't try to pretend my scars didn't exist. Said he liked girls who could stand up for themselves."

"Sounds like a good possibility. What kind of car does he drive?"

"I don't know."

Quinn gave a friendly sigh. "One thing at a time."

* * *

Quinn read the next morning's _Peppermill_ with satisfaction. 

**Fraternity Non Grata**

**In response to Tau-Psi's advertisement in yesterday's paper, the entire fraternity has found itself subject to the 'date boycott' originally targeted at 5 members (Don't ask, our legal advisor still says don't mention their names). When asked about the expanded boycott, organizer and Tri-Theta pledge Quinn Morgendorffer said, "Well, duh. If they think those guys were right; then a lot of girls around won't want to go out with them." **

**Inter-Fraternity Council President Wilbur Cline told us, "We have been very disturbed by these allegations against Tau-Psi. These kinds of behaviors are not encouraged among the fraternity community. If true, we strongly encourage the parties to offer the young lady a sincere apology." **

**A spokesman for Tau-Psi said, "Bite me."**

She gazed across the common room of the dorm building. Fran was sitting amid several young women in a discussion. _She's really starting to come out of her shell. I'm glad. Although, I wish it hadn't happened like this._

Quinn walked over to hear Fran say, "I only wanted an apology. I never expected anything like this. It's almost been overwhelming." She looked up and smiled at Quinn. "And I have her to thank."

The girls turned as Quinn said, "It was my older sister's idea."

One of the young women said, "I thought you brought it up, not one of the upperclassmen."

Quinn shook her head. "No, my real sister. She's in Boston. It was her idea."

Another said, "She must really be cool."

"In her way, she is."

The first said, "I bet you must have made a great team in high school."

"Uh…yeah. At times."

The group looked a little confused. Quinn more quietly said, "We also didn't always get along. But in the end, we learned to appreciate each other."

A third chuckled and said, "Been there, done that. With two older sisters. Welcome to the club."

* * *

Neither Quinn nor Fran went anywhere alone that day. Well-wishers and supporters flowed to and fro around them. Quinn reveled in the attention, while Fran cycled through joy, surprise and alarm. As they came back to their dorm after classes, Quinn shooed everyone away and let Fran get inside alone. She caught up with her friend and said, "I know you don't want a crowd around your date tonight." 

"Thanks. I'm nervous enough as it is. I've enjoyed the company, but all the crowds have also been scary. I'm not used to that kind of attention."

"I think you'll be fine, but be careful."

Fran patted a can of pepper spray in her purse. "Loaded and ready. I hope he's not out to cause problems. I'm not that good at reading guys."

* * *

Quinn got home early from her date that night and waited for Fran. A decent date would do a world of good for her friend; a date intended to intimidate or embarrass her could be devastating. Feeling nervous, a stray memory crossed Quinn's mind of her mother saying, _"Someday, you'll be waiting up for someone to come home from a date. You'll understand then."_ She was still trying to put down the sudden realization that she had a maternal streak when the door opened and Fran entered. 

She was in the same dress that Quinn had helped her find and had a gentle smile on her face. She said to Quinn, "Okay, no love at first sight, but I had a nice time. Even if we were heckled." She hugged Quinn. "Thanks."

Quinn emerged from her inner thoughts. "That's the idea. Having a nice time."

Fran released her. "I don't think I could ever juggle two or three dates a night like you."

Quinn smiled. "It takes practice to get that right."

"I'll be happy with only every once in a while." She sat down and smiled. "Tonight, I felt like a lady, instead of a freak."

"You are a lady, and never forget that."

Fran nodded. "Thanks." She looked seriously at Quinn. "Can I get your sister's phone number? I'd like to talk to her."

"Sure, but don't call now. She gets really cranky if you wake her at one in the morning."

* * *

Fran sat under a tree in the Plaza and carefully punched in Daria's number. She waited patiently as the phone rang. Finally a faintly monotone voice answered, "Hello." 

Fran inhaled slightly, "Hi, Daria?"

Daria frowned slightly as she rode home for lunch in the passenger seat of Karen's truck. "Yes, who is this?"

"Hi…um…this is Fran, Quinn's roommate."

"Fran? Is Quinn okay?"

"What? Oh, yes. She's fine. I wanted to talk to you."

Daria relaxed a little. "I'm not doing the driving, we can talk."

"I wanted to thank you for helping us."

"Welcome. I understand what it's like to be targeted. How are things going?"

"They, um, grew a little more than expected. Most girls stopped dating the entire frat."

Daria's eyes opened a little. "That was a little closer to the play than I anticipated."

"Well…the frat brothers banded together and a lot of people banded around me. The regular couples have mostly ignored what's going on, and some girls have decided this opened up new territory for them. But overall, I've met a lot of good people that I never would have met otherwise. I never knew…never imagined something like this."

"Sounds like things have been positive for you."

"Mostly good, some bad, like some guys threw tomatoes at me today. This…is going to sound strange. Even though what those boys did hurt me more than anything; what's happened since has made the pain worth it. With all I've gained in the last few days…I can't seem to stay mad at them enough to continue. Did that make sense?"

"Actually, yes it did." Daria glanced at Karen. "It sounds like my sister has also found an exceptional roommate. I don't think…no, I know I couldn't be that forgiving. You're a lot bigger person than I am if you can. There is a simple way to end it."

* * *

The Friday _Peppermill _carried a letter: 

**The last few days have brought to me more true wealth of friendship and happiness than I had ever expected. The kind and generous support of the Pepperhill community has touched me deeply. So deeply, that I feel the experiences of the last week have done me much greater good than the events that sparked this caused me harm. **

**With deep gratitude to all for their honest support, I now respectfully ask to end this boycott. I no longer hold any animosity toward those that harmed me and I sincerely hope that they have learned how much what seems a simple jest can hurt another. In good conscience, I can no longer ask for punishment when I have gained so much from everyone else. I cannot yet say I can truly forgive. But, I think I am on my way. **

**My thanks to all those who stood up for a frightened girl. You have changed my life more than many of you will ever know. The memory of the support I've felt this week will always be cherished and will burn bright long after the shadows of pain have faded. **

**Frances Lawrence 1-Arts&Sciences**

* * *

Just before reaching her dorm, Fran saw Dean waiting by the steps, and cautiously approached. He raised a hand while she was still about five feet away. "I'm sorry, I was an asshole." 

Without allowing her to say a word, Dean spun and rapidly walked away. Fran leaned against the stair rail and watched him. _The status quo really hasn't changed. But maybe, a few of us have learned something._

* * *

Thanks to Angelinhel, Kristen Bealer, The Angst Guy, Sleepless, Isa Yo-Jo, Brother Grimace for valuable comments at PPMB. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

March 2005.


	5. Bump in the Night

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-Second story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Bump in the Night**

While closing the front door of her south Boston apartment, Jane Lane said, "Hey, Daria. You and Michael have any plans for next Saturday?" to a young, auburn-haired woman seated at the kitchen table.

Comfortable in a loose t-shirt and shorts, Daria Morgendorffer looked up from some homework at the sable-haired woman in paint-splattered jeans and sweatshirt. "We were contemplating hitching a ride on the Concorde for a quick night of dining and dancing in Paris, but otherwise, no."

Chuckling, Jane went to her room and casually tossed a bookbag inside. "A likely story. You, dancing?"

"Who was I trying to fool with that line? Anyway, it sounds like you're trying to make plans for us."

Jane poked her head into the kitchen, to see the third resident of the apartment cooking dinner. "Karen, this applies to you and Derek, too."

"Wonderful." Karen Myerson pushed a lock of dark blond hair from her eyes. "Why is this starting to sound like another of your parties?"

"Damn, you're good." Jane sniffed the pot of spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. "And you're starting to figure me out."

"Okay, now out of my kitchen and tell us the details." Karen shooed Jane away.

"Your kitchen?"

"It is when I'm cooking."

Next to the table, Jane turned and said, "The BFAC Student Association is holding a Halloween party as a fundraiser to help pay for a trip to New York and the Met, right after finals. It's five dollars each to get in. I really want to go on this trip. Please?"

Daria sighed and lowered her head. "Let me guess: a costume party?"

Jane grinned. "What other kind do you have for Halloween?"

"Hell, I haven't done one of those in years," Karen said. "I think I can talk Derek into springing ten bucks."

"Daria, there is a tiny risk you might have fun, but can I talk you into it?"

"I suppose."

"Good." Jane put an arm around Daria's shoulder. "And no cheating, you have to have a real costume."

"Spoilsport."

"I bet Michael will like the idea."

"Yeah, right. The only reason he has matching socks is that he buys a dozen identical pairs at a time."

Jane grabbed the telephone and handed it to Daria. "Okay, let's make it interesting. If he agrees right away, I get to pick out your costume."

Daria began dialing. "And if he's reluctant, I get to pick yours. You're on."

* * *

In room 244 of Milton Hall, the men's dormitory at Raft University, Todd Baker was stretched on his bed, reading a physics textbook. "Mike, the poker game's here this Saturday, you want in?" 

Seated at a computer desk at the opposite end of the room, Michael Fulton said, "No, thanks. You know I have a lousy poker face." He turned to look at his dark-skinned roommate. "Or is that why you want me in?"

"Well…"

"Figures."

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

"Yes, I can. I assume the game will go almost all night."

"That's a good bet." Todd turned in response to the wall-mounted telephone ringing. He reached over to answer it. "Yeah?"

Daria said, "Hi, Todd. It's Daria. Michael around?"

Jane leaned close to hear the speaker.

He put a hand over the handset and called Michael. "Mike, your girl."

Michael finished typing a sentence and walked over, taking the handset. "Thanks." He sat on the bed and said, "Hi, Daria."

"Um, Michael. Jane's invited us to a Halloween costume party at BFAC this Saturday."

Michael thought of Todd's poker buddies and their cigars. Daria, thank you for giving me an escape. "Sure! Sounds like fun; let's go."

Daria's eyes flashed open as Jane pumped both fists in the air and danced. Daria said, "Oh, yeah, thanks. Jane will be happy."

"I bet she's got all kinds of wild ideas for costumes. Personally, I don't have a clue, but figure I can think of something."

"Yeah, I'm sure Jane has a lot of ideas. Karen almost has dinner ready. I'll see you tomorrow."

Mike looked at his takeout burger and fries. "Enjoy dinner. I'll be there tomorrow. I love you."

Daria lightly blushed and turned away from Jane and Karen. "I love you. Good night."

"Night." Michael hung up the phone. "I'll be over at a BFAC party this Saturday. Please don't let anyone puke on my bed this time."

"Dude, sorry. I promise it won't happen again."

* * *

Daria set the phone down and scowled at Jane. "You're enjoying this way too much." 

"Hey, I don't win that many bets with you."

"And dressing me up in something embarrassing doesn't enter into it."

"I promise not to go too overboard. After all, you know where I sleep."

"And when."

Daria's cell phone rang. She pulled it from her belt. "Mom's probably still at work, so it must be Quinn." She opened it and answered, "Hello."

Quinn quickly screeched, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

Balancing the cell phone away from her ear, but close enough to speak into, Daria said, "Quinn, I'm here. Please calm down.

"Oh, God! Daria!"

"Quinn. As much as I would like the promotion, I'm not ready to move into senior management yet."

"Daria!"

"Quinn, take a deep breath."

Quinn nodded to herself and complied.

"Good. Now, tell me what's going on."

"I got my mid-term grades today."

"Please don't tell me you have grades that look like they came from your Fashion Club years."

"Um…I wish they looked that good."

"What the hell happened? You said you were going to be serious."

"I was…but, I got distracted."

"Distracted? Uh, huh. What's your dates-per-night average these days?"

"Two point six."

"Quinn! That's up there with where you were in tenth grade."

"I know. I messed up."

"Okay, we need to work with this. What's your GPA?"

"Zero."

"Point?"

"Zero."

"Quinn! You're going to have to bust your butt to salvage things. You don't want to get behind in college. This isn't Lawndale; they won't give you make-ups."

"I'm sorry. But, after living like I was in a nunnery for most of last year, I wanted to have fun."

"I hope you did, because if you want to stay there, you're not going to have much for the rest of the semester."

"Crap."

"Depending how deep you are, you're going to need 'As' and 'Bs' for the rest of the term to pull things up. You have all freshman survey courses and stuff, right?"

"Um, yeah."

"Okay. You'll need to keep focused and remember those test-taking tricks that David taught you that summer. You can do this."

"Okay, Daria. Thanks for listening."

"Hang in there, Quinn. Remember, the alternative to staying in college is living with Mom and Dad."

"Eep!"

"I thought that would get your attention. Now, I have to get back to my problems."

"Your problems? What kind?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

After dinner, Karen went to her room to play with chemistry models, or "tinker toys" as she usually called them, while studying organic chemistry. Daria had plopped onto the sofa in front of the Forecast Channel, reading a book. Jane went into her room. 

"What to put her in." Jane sat back on her bed in thought. "Can't push the limits too much; she's still sensitive about those things. I need something that just slightly embarrasses her…but still has the spirit of Halloween." Eyes twinkling, she said, "Halloween spirit."

With a sly grin, Jane went to a shelf and scanned for a manila folder. "There you are." She pulled it out and removed the story Daria had given her and Trent a little over a year ago. "_Depth Takes A Holiday._"

* * *

Cecelia "CC" Czernicki looked up from the work table in her RA dorm room at BFAC in response to a knock. "Yeah, it's open." 

Jane entered and looked at the pile of loose metal rings in front of her old roommate. "CC, what the hell are you doing?"

Holding needle-nose pliers in each hand, CC looked over. "Hi, Jane. Just working on my Halloween costume."

"Pliers are not normally used for sewing, are they?"

"Who said I'm sewing? Anyway, what brings you over?"

"I need your help in finding something."

* * *

Daria looked at the costume arrayed on her bed and then at Jane. The knee-length black skirt and soft, black leather boots were from Daria's closet, but the long black gloves and black, cloth collar were new, as well as the final item. "Where in the hell did you find an orange bustier?" 

"It wasn't easy." Jane held the garment against Daria. "But with a little professional help, you'd be amazed at what you can find in those shops behind sorority row at Raft."

Great concern crossed Daria's face. "You didn't pick up anything else there, did you?"

"Well, at least not for you."

"Jane, if you value your life, you will never tell me what else you bought there, or for whom."

"Don't you at least want to know if batteries were included?"

Ignoring the comment, Daria took the bustier from Jane. "I should be glad you didn't pick out something too revealing."

"Daria, all anyone is going to see of you in that is your shoulders and your upper arms."

Opening the bustier for emphasis, Daria replied, "And the upper part of my boobs."

"Hey, I've waited years for you to show me your boobs."

"Funny."

"Daria, it won't be that bad. You'll look good, and I'm sure Michael will like it."

"It really isn't that revealing." Daria sighed. "Okay, I'll try it on."

"Great! I'll try mine on. Just to be fair."

* * *

_I have to admit, I like the feel of these satin gloves. _Daria shivered in pleasure as she ran her hands over her shoulders. 

"Hey, you decent in there?" Jane called from the hallway.

Daria looked in her small mirror. _I also have to admit that I have cleavage in this thing. _"Technically, yes," Daria called back.

Jane wolf-whistled after she pushed the door open.

With slight irritation, Daria turned to see Jane wearing a tight, black body suit with a square buckle, clearly based on the character of Emma Peel from the old television show and recent movie, _The Avengers_. Daria said, "Okay, you're showing less skin, but you're also leaving less to the imagination."

"Why, thank you. How does yours feel?"

She looked down at herself. "I…um…I've never shown off this much of them before."

"Just think of it as a safe place to keep your keys."

"Jane."

"Now the black hair." Jane rubbed her chin in thought. "Dye or a wig?"

"Forget it. You might be tempted to get even for the last time I dyed your hair. Besides, my hair's never done a thing to me, and I'm not going to try to keep a wig on all night. We go with my normal hair."

"I suppose so. You can have that much."

"Thank you."

"By the way. You owe me forty-two fifty-seven." Jane held out her hand.

"What?"

"Daria, you didn't think that grew on a tree, did you?"

"Forty-two and change for something I'm going to wear once?"

"Maybe. But, maybe not. Somehow, I think you'll find an occasion or two in the future to wear it."

"Pervert."

* * *

Fran Lawrence noticed a gaggle of young men, mostly freshmen, waiting around the front entrance to her dorm building. They all turned as she walked up. A young man with dirty blond hair approached her nervously. "Um, Fran?" 

The small woman stopped her hand from automatically going to her face. In the couple weeks since the date boycott organized to support her, she had been better able to deal with the scars there. "That's me."

"Um…Is Quinn all right? It's Friday and she ain't been on a date since Sunday."

"She's okay." Fran smiled at the boys' obvious relief. "She's been studying."

The men stood around, stupefied.

Fran exhaled. "You know, studying? What you do around colleges? Part of that whole learning thing?"

The spokesman forced a laugh. "Funny, now really, where is she?"

"Studying."

The men looked at each other as if they'd been told the World Series would be pre-empted by reruns of _The Golden Girls._

"Guys, she does have to pass her classes to stay here."

More stupid looks.

"You do want her to stay?"

"Yes!" was the unified answer.

"Then let her study. She has some catching up to do, and then she'll be dating again. But, it will only be one date per night. Understand?

The men looked at each other.

"Understand?"

They muttered responses, of "Yes," "Sure," "I guess," and "Aw."

"Good." She dug a notepad from her backpack. "If you write down your names, I'll let her know you were looking for her."

* * *

"At least Todd can pick up after himself," Daria observed as she leaned against the doorframe of Michael's room. 

Michael finished putting his watch on and grabbed a camouflaged jacket. "And he understands the concept of regular bathing."

Daria laughed. "Compared to that guy you had last year."

"Ugh the cave man would have been neater. Todd's actually a pretty good roommate. Electrical engineering is no slacker major."

"And, he can fix your electronics."

"Bingo." Michael put his wallet in his pocket. "Okay, ready to go. I hope that they have at least something left."

"If not, you'll get what you deserve."

"What did you come up with?"

"Um…you'll see tomorrow. A bit of a surprise."

He went over and softly wrapped his arms around her and gave her a long kiss. "I like your surprises. I think I can wait."

* * *

The costume rental store was pretty well ransacked by the time they got there. Michael wandered through the vacant racks while Daria stood back and watched. 

Holding a clown suit, Michael said, "You know, a sheet with two holes cut in it is sounding pretty good about now."

"Forget it. If I can't get away with a simple costume, you can't."

"What do you mean? 'I can't get away with a simple costume.'"

"I…uh, lost a bet with Jane. She came up with my costume."

Michael let a slight grin slip by. "So, how revealing is it?"

Daria scowled. "I see that grin."

"Oops, sorry."

"It's not really that revealing…but it is, um, kind of provocative."

"Hmm." His eyes brightened.

Daria sighed.

Michael went to her. "You're wearing it, right?"

"Yes."

"So, I know it can't be too bad, or you would refuse."

"It's not entirely that, it's…a design I came up with."

"Let me get this straight, Jane has you wearing a costume that you came up with, and you're nervous about it."

Daria looked away for a moment. "It was for a character in a story I wrote for her and Trent. A little fun about a restaurant back in Lawndale. Something I never imagined I would wear."

"Okay, now you've really got me interested."

"I can't believe I…" Daria stopped when she saw a costume. _Misery loves company. _"I think I found what you're going in."

Michael looked at the costume, alone on a rack. "No."

"If I'm going as a character in that story, so are you."

"But, that's a…what kind of story was it?"

"I'll email you a copy. Let's just say that I'm going as the spirit of Halloween, and you're going as Cupid."

* * *

"We ate each other's brain." Derek Adler said as he and Karen left her room dressed and made-up as zombies. 

"That explains a lot," Daria quipped, looking over the back of the sofa. She was in her costume and already wearing a jacket against the evening chill.

Jane barely slowed as she headed for the door, also in costume. "I'll see everyone there. We still have a few decorations to finish before things start."

Karen said, "Figures an art college would go so whole-hog on this."

Jane paused at the door and smirked back. "That's what happens when you give us creative types a creative holiday. Later."

"Daria, you got it right in that story. I feel like I'm wearing a diaper." Michael walked out in his costume, a white, cherub-like toga with a small quiver over one shoulder. A pair of small plastic wings and a plastic bow was tucked under one arm. "I'd rather have the taser; that was cool."

Derek pulled a dark green trenchcoat off a chair back and tossed it to Michael. "Yeah, you're going to need this, unless you want to freeze stuff off out there."

"Thanks." Michael caught the coat. He sat on one of kitchen chairs and pulled on some boots. "I'll do the sandals when we get there." He looked at Daria. "You owe me for this."

Daria rose from the sofa "That's what you get for agreeing so fast."

"Hey, if you'd ever smelled those nasty stogies Todd and his friends smoke at their poker games, you'd agree to almost anything to keep away."

"A good cigar doesn't smell that bad," Derek said.

"These are college students. Who said they buy good cigars?"

"So, just think of this as the price you pay to breathe." Daria moved very close and whispered, "Though you can stay close to keep warm if you like."

* * *

Daria drove all four to BFAC in her black sedan, keeping extra heat on the floor vents in deference to Michael's bare legs. Using a flashlight, Karen and Derek read the story on the way. 

"Daria, you can be one twisted individual. You know that, don't you?" said Karen.

"So I've been told on more than one occasion."

Michael gave her a lopsided grin. "Must be one of the reasons I stick around."

Daria gave him a quick look. "Maybe I should have tried to find a leprechaun costume."

Derek said, "But then, you'd need to give him green beer breath."

"Don't forget whose car you're in. The forecast is for a low of forty-two tonight.

"Hmm. Point taken." Derek retreated back to reading.

* * *

After hurrying inside BFAC's main exhibit hall from the commuter parking lot, they found a pair of makeshift dressing/coat check rooms next to the entry foyer. Karen and Derek wore coats as part of their costume, so they went straight in. Daria and Michael split up to their respective dressing rooms. 

Daria checked her coat and paused before going out. The cool air over her shoulders and across the top of her chest was slightly disconcerting. She took a breath to calm down and stepped out. Several of the young men in the hall gave her long looks, one long enough to earn one man a smack from his date, and earn Daria a dirty look from the same woman.

Michael felt silly in the costume, especially the plastic wings that bobbed and weaved when he moved in an entirely unlifelike fashion. "The things you do." He shrugged and went out to the entry foyer.

Daria quickly walked over to him. "Ready?"

"If you can stand being seen with these skinny legs, sure."

"I think they look nice." Daria put an arm around his waist.

He moved one arm around her shoulders. "Your…uh, look nice, too."

"Thanks," Daria quietly said. "I feel partially naked."

"You feel naked?"

"Misery loves company: let's go get this over with."

Entering the exhibit hall, they heard on the PA system a recording of orchestral instruments playing to a rock beat, along with singing:

_"The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one," he said.  
The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one - but still they come._

The room looked like a giant, metallic cylinder had plunged through the roof. The top slowly rotated like it was unscrewing, showing about a foot of threading. The space above faded into darkness, where theater-style lighting scaffolds supported drop lights shining on the centerpiece. Around the crater-like base, what looked like red-leaved weeds abounded.

Daria smiled at the scene. "I think we have a theme here."

Walking around the cylinder, they saw that a portrait of a young Orson Wells was painted on it, below the logo, Mercury Theater Express.

Michael laughed. "The man who scared the crap out of America."

One of the suspended lights suddenly began to sway on its mounting, casting eerie shadows that danced and swayed. Jane walked up. "Ulla, Earthlings. Welcome to BFAC."

Michael looked up. "Nice light effects."

Jane looked up suspiciously. "That wasn't an effect. We haven't figured out what's going on."

"Funny, Jane."

"Really. Some people claim to hear some skittering going on up there in the light grid, too."

"Do I look like I'm dressed to go up there?" CC, wearing a chainmail bikini lined with black fur and elf ears under her blue hair, yelled at a figure wearing a scale model of a haunted house.

A male voice came from the house. "Do I look like I can get around up there?"

Another young man wearing a black and white football uniform walked up. It looked straightforward, except the black helmet was backward with no visible sign of holes to see through. A muffled voice within said, "I'll go. At least I'm protected if I run into any disgruntled spirits."

"Thanks, Cal," CC told him.

Daria looked at Jane. "Let me guess: there's some legend about the place being haunted."

"No, we just don't have a clue of what's…" Another light began to sway. "…going on. Got to admit, it's freaky."

His stomach rumbling, Michael said, "This is all well and good, but where's the munchies?"

Daria gazed sideways at him. "Males, always…often thinking with their stomachs."

Jane pointed to one wall, where a long table was set up. "Over there. Be advised that the food is also themed."

Michael started over. "I can deal."

Jane elbowed Daria. "And what else are they thinking with?"

"If you don't know that one, you and your mother need to have a nice, long talk."

* * *

True to Jane's word, the snack table was Halloween themed, from such staples as pumpkin-shaped cookies and candies to the true oddities such as a mix of crumbled cookies, chocolate ice cream and gummy worms in a flower pot, with a plastic flower sticking out. There were also petri dishes filled with jello and lady fingers that looked like fingers. Daria pointed to a human skull replica with the brain case filled with onion dip. "Hmm, might want to try that one some time." 

"Ah, converts," Karen said, coming up from behind. Derek was heading to a punch bowl filled with some green concoction and glowing from several matching light sticks floating in it.

"Ack!" reverberated from Cal up in the lighting scaffolds. He loudly scrambled back to the access ladder. "There's something up here!"

Daria looked up. "Rats or bats, what do you say?"

"Most of the native bats would be too small to move stage lights," Karen said.

Daria shaded her eyes and squinted up at the lights. "Those look like the mini lights we used over at Raft's theater. They're pretty small and light. The grid monkeys like them a lot more than the older, heavy ones."

Cal jumped the last couple feet and landed with a thump. Keeping his eyes upward, he moved away from the ladder.

Balancing two drinks, Derek crunched chips and said, "Whatever it was, it was big enough to freak him out."

Karen took a drink from Derek. "Now, if they get rats the size of some of those I've seen around the zoo, I could see where it would freak out a city boy."

"It had glowing red eyes!" Cal said as he went by them.

Jane walked up and grabbed a petri dish of jello. "You know, with those dark lenses Cal has over the vision holes, I bet he couldn't see squat up there."

Michael looked up and smiled. "Well, whatever it is…it's alive."

He was very annoyed to discover how easily a toga trapped the chips and other items thrown at him for that remark, especially the jello.

* * *

Fran looked at a notebook and then at Quinn sitting at her computer. "I suppose it was cruel to cut them off cold turkey. And, it's not good for you. Look, Alain is on the top of the list; isn't he that French exchange student in your Comp One-Oh-One class?" 

Quinn nodded, with a dreamy look in her eyes. "Yeah."

"So, go out with him tonight. It's a weekend."

"I've got to study."

"Don't go from one extreme to the other, or I'll start poaching on your territory."

"You wouldn't."

Fran smiled. "I'll at least try."

Laughing, Quinn said, "Okay, I'll go out with Alain tonight. You're right; cold turkey was cruel to them."

"That beat puppy look on them was so sad."

"And I'm supposed to have some fun in college. What about you? Are you doing anything tonight?"

"I'm heading out with a couple girls from Epsilon Alpha Phi to catch some tear-jerker chick-flick."

"You're a sucker for those, aren't you?"

"Call it a habit. No, call it an addiction. Have fun."

"I will."

"And I'll make sure you're back to studying tomorrow."

"Fran, thanks."

"Any time."

* * *

Daria and Michael wandered around for a while. Most of the attendees were BFAC students, and Daria found the many original costumes fascinating. Irregularly, something would bump a light and it would sway. Nobody wanted to go up to look. The next song over the PA caused Daria to stop and hold Michael tight. 

_No Nathaniel  
Oh, no Nathaniel  
No, Nathaniel no  
There must be more to life.  
There has to be a way  
That we can restore to life  
The love we used to know  
Nathaniel no  
There must be more to life  
There has to be a way  
That we can restore to life  
The light that we have lost._

Daria looked up at Michael. "That was kind of creepy. I was imagining my Grandma Ruth's voice in that."

"Why would…oh, yeah. Your grandfather's name was Nathan."

"There are times when I wonder what she went through." She pulled tighter to Michael. "To see the one you love so changed."

Michael put both arms around her and gently leaned her head against his shoulder. "It must have been scary."

Along one side of the light scaffolds, a bright blue flash erupted, accompanied by a loud "pop" and a puff of smoke as the lights went out. Everyone went silent for a moment before a fresh bustle of conversation started.

Daria could hear the voice from the haunted house say, "CC, could you help get this thing off me?"

"Normally guys want things to come off me. Sure," CC replied. "Hey, Cal, bring that flashlight over here."

Cal said, "I…dropped it up on the grid."

"Great, I get to do this by Braille. Joe, I hope you don't mind."

"Um…no, not really."

Daria went to the punch bowl and fished out the light sticks, wiping them on napkins. "Okay, pass these around." She gave several to those nearby. "Jane, any more?"

"Sorry, we used all of them in the punch," Jane's voice said from the darkness.

Daria took one over to CC, who had her arms under the house to undo the fasteners. She looked at Daria. "Good thinking. Hold it next to the house so I can look through the windows to see what I'm doing."

"Okay, though that sounds awful voyeuristic to me."

"And people say my mind's in the gutter." Looking inside the small windows, CC could see the buckles and quickly undid them, freeing Joe from the house.

He lifted it carefully and set it on the floor. "Thanks, CC, and you are?"

"Daria. Friend of CC's old roommate."

"Jane? Okay , you're one of the cool people." He pointed to the light stick. "Can I use that? Since Mr. Brilliant over there dropped the flashlight up in gridland."

Daria handed it over. "Sure."

Joe took it and grabbed Cal, now sans the football helmet. "Come on, something blew on the patchboard. That can't be good."

Cal stammered, "B…but…"

"You got that. It's our butts if something is screwed up."

The two young men went up the slightly angled ladder while the crowd waited and watched their progress across the scaffolding. Soon, Joe picked up the flashlight and used it to finish the trip to the lighting circuit patchboard. He took one look at a spilled drink cup on it and yelled, "Who the hell left a soda on the board!"

Standing near the ladder, Daria could hear a series of soft thumps as something came down it unseen in the darkness. She whispered to Michael, "Please go get one of those light sticks."

"Sure, Daria." Michael walked away just as Daria felt something brush against her boot and walk around her legs. She held still while waiting, and felt something settle onto her feet.

Michael returned with the light stick and giggled. A black cat was lying on Daria's feet, with a dead rat in front of its paws as an offering. He said, "Now we know what was going bump in the night."

Just as Daria looked down, it looked up and softly meowed. The cat's nose was white, as were both front paws. Daria slowly reached down to it. _Mom and Dad always avoided letting us have pets. Now it looks like one found me._

From above, Joe said, "Okay, I've got it cleaned up. Throw the breaker."

Cal flipped the breaker switch and the lights came back on.

Daria picked the cat up, saying, "Hello, Bump."

Karen, Derek, and Jane walked over to Daria. Karen said, "It looks like you've been adopted."

Jane smirked. "And gifted. I think it likes you."

"I think so." She looked at the dead rat and then at the cat. "While your gift is appreciated, no more of them will be necessary."

CC looked at the two men coming back along the scaffold. "Cal, it looks like we found your fearful beastie. It's kind of cute."

Daria looked down at the purring cat in her arms. "Okay, Bump. I need to scrape together a pet deposit for Mrs. Lyndon so you can stay in the apartment."

Bump nuzzled the underside of Daria's chin and meowed.

* * *

Lyrics from _The Eve Of War_, and _The Spirit of Man_ from Jeff Wayne's _Musical War of the Worlds_. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

April 2005


	6. The Last Piece Falls

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-Third story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**

The Last Piece Falls

**

After opening the front door of her upstairs apartment, Daria Morgendorffer lifted a dark green animal carrier and lugged it inside, pulling the door closed behind her.

"Hey, Karen," she said to a young woman with dark blond hair who was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and notes.

"Hey, Daria," Karen Myerson replied.

Daria sat on a sofa and placed the carrier on the floor, facing her.

Wiping her hands on a paper towel, Daria's old friend, Jane Lane, looked out from the kitchen. "Ah, you're back. How's our resident goddess?"

"She's still groggy from the anesthesia, but otherwise came through fine." Daria crouched and opened the cage, carefully removing a black cat with white forepaws and nose.

Jane tossed the paper into a trash can. "Let's hope she doesn't figure out she was used as a teaching aid."

Daria said to Karen, "I'm glad you told me about the Vet School's program for free spaying and neutering."

Karen shrugged. "Makes sense, vet students need hands on experience."

"I'll take it," Daria said as she sat on the couch. "All I had to pay for was the cost of her shots."

Jane came in from the kitchen. "And as a good Morgendorffer, you never let an opportunity to get something cut-rate go by."

"You make that sound like my parents rubbed off on me…wait, they did."

The cat sleepily held her eyes open and let out a weak meow.

"Fine, Bump." Daria started long, gentle strokes along the cat's back. "The guilt trip worked; I'll worship you for a while."

Jane leaned over the back of the sofa. "Damn, Morgendorffer, you are getting soft around the edges."

Daria looked up. "I still think you're getting glaucoma."

"Come on, Daria. You didn't think twice about bringing her home."

Daria sighed. "Maybe just a hair. Things never worked out for us to have a pet when I was growing up."

"Never?" Karen asked, incredulous. "No pets at all?"

Daria shook her head. "Longest we had an animal in the house was a lab mouse that I'd used in a conditioning experiment in tenth grade."

Jane said, "Poor mouse though."

"What happened?" Karen asked.

"The girlfriend of the idiot I was assigned to work with stole the mouse and let her psycho little brother keep it," Daria explained. "By the time I traded her for it, the poor thing was too terrified to do anything."

"Trade?"

"I traded her boyfriend back. I got the better end of the deal."

Karen chuckled. "This sounds like that quarterback and cheerleader couple you've told me about."

"That's them."

"So, what happened to the mouse?"

"I'd heard one of the girls in our class, Scarlett, took the mouse home to take care of. Not really sure beyond that."

Jane said, "Oh, yeah."

Karen looked back at Daria. "That's it? No puppies? No kittens?"

"Nope. Not even a goldfish."

"That sucks."

"Mom just never seemed that comfortable around animals."

Karen looked at Jane. "Please tell me you had pets."

"Did we ever, especially when Penny was in her animal rescue phase and brought home every stray she could find."

Daria said, "Jane and Trent had two cats when I first met them. We think Mystik Spiral's practices scared them away."

When the doorbell rang, Jane looked toward it. "I'll get it." She went to the door and looked through the spyglass.

A man in suit stood on the landing. Jane opened it a crack and said, "Can I help you?"

He smiled. "Ma'am, are you Ms. Daria L. Morgendorffer?"

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"Ma'am, I'm a licensed process server and I have a legal document for Ms. Morgendorffer." He reached into his pocket and opened his wallet. "My identification."

"Um…okay." Jane turned. "Daria, for you."

"I heard." Curious, Daria moved the cat from her lap, "Sorry, Bump."

Unhappy with losing a warm lap, Bump gave a slightly sharp meow.

Daria got off the sofa and went to the door. "I'm Daria."

"May I please see some positive identification?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll be right back." Daria went to her room and returned with her wallet open. "Here."

The server examined her driver's license and handed the wallet back along with a sealed, folded paper. "The District Attorney of Lawndale County, Maryland has requested this subpoena be delivered to you. Thank you for your cooperation, ma'am."

"Um, you're welcome."

He nodded and walked back down the stairs.

Daria opened the seal and read the enclosed subpoena. "I've been summoned to testify in the case of the State of Maryland versus Linda Griffin, Leonard Lamm, and Angela Li."

Jane said, "With Li and Lamm involved, it must be something with that Ultra Cola mess."

Daria read a bit more from the letter. "It is, and I did tip off Superintendent Cartwright about things. But how the hell is Linda Griffin involved?"

"A subpoena?" Karen said as she came over. "How crooked was that old high school of yours?"

Daria read some more. "Maybe even worse than we thought. I really think I need to talk to Mom about this."

Jane asked, "As a lawyer?"

"Yeah. It looks like there was a lot more going on with Ultra Cola than on-campus advertising." Daria went to her room and came back with her cell phone. "Might as well get this taken care of."

After using the speed-dial and waiting a few moments, Daria said, "Hi, Maryanne. This is Daria Morgendorffer. Can I speak with my mother? It's important."

The legal secretary said, "Hi, Daria. Your mother's going through background material for a new client right now. She should be able to talk, hold please."

"Sure."

Maryanne efficiently worked the office phone.

"Yes?" Helen Morgendorffer used the external speaker function to answer her office telephone.

Maryanne said, "It's your daughter, Daria, on line two."

"Thanks, Maryanne."

Helen punched a button. "Daria, how are you?"

"Hi, Mom. I'm okay, but…"

Helen narrowed her eyes. "But?"

"I'm going to need some legal counsel."

"Daria! Oh, God, what did you do?"

"I got involved in trying to right one of Ms. Li's wrongs and no good deed goes unpunished."

Helen cautiously picked up the file folder she had been looking through. "Go on."

Sighing, Daria continued, "I've been subpoenaed to testify to a grand jury against Linda Griffin, Leonard Lamm and Angela Li about that Ultra Cola mess, back when I was a senior."

Helen sat back in her chair in shock. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry Sweetie, but I can't help you."

"Mom?" Daria felt like she'd been physically hit. "I didn't do anything wrong, but I know enough from you that I should have counsel. Why can't you take time out of your schedule to help me?"

Helen looked at her newest client's name on the top of the folder, Linda Griffin, and sighed heavily. "Because taking you as a client would be a conflict of interest. This is…complicated."

* * *

Early August: 

Linda Griffin, the Vice President of Advertising at KSBC television in Lawndale, put down the telephone and said to her daughter, "Sandi, I'll be back in a few minutes. When I do, we're going to the bank to get you up to date on your college trust fund and what you can and cannot withdraw money for."

As soon as Linda closed the door, Sandi Griffin went to her mother's filing cabinets and began a quick search of correspondence. After a couple minutes, she wickedly smiled and went to the photocopy machine.

By the time Linda returned, the original was neatly folded in Sandi's pocket and the photocopy closed up in the filing cabinet.

* * *

Early September: 

"Paperless society my ass," Linda complained as she searched for a file folder in a cabinet marked "Correspondence." She flipped past several folders before stopping. "What's this one doing out of place?

When Linda pulled the folder out to move it, she noticed something odd about a corner of paper sticking out. "Why's this copy on plain paper instead of watermark?" Linda sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Damn. I told that idiot secretary that I wanted all my correspondence copies on paper matching the original."

She pulled it out of the folder and walked to the copier. "Better make a new copy." Her breath caught when she realized what it was. "Oh, no!"

After several minutes of carefully searching folders in the cabinet, she sat down at her desk, pale. "Somebody's taken the copy…dammit! I've got to get rid of the original."

* * *

"Yes, Mrs. Griffin. I understand it's frustrating, but you can't see them unescorted," Lawndale High School Principal Claire DeFoe said over the telephone. 

Annoyed, Linda asked, "Are they secured or something?"

"Yes, by court order. The only reason they're still here is the DA's office didn't have the storage space."

"For how long?"

"Until all of the investigations of Ms.Li are done."

"Ms. DeFoe. This is a fairly minor detail; can't you just let me take a quick look to find it?"

"I'm sorry, but nobody can examine her files without a police officer or officer of the court present. Besides, nothing can be removed: it's all considered potential evidence. If you can tell me exactly what you need, the school will be happy to provide certified copies for your records."

Linda sighed. "Oh, no. Don't go to a lot of unnecessary effort on my part. I'll double check around here. Good-bye."

"Very well, then. Have a nice day." Claire placed the telephone back on its cradle.

"That was very odd," she said to the empty room. "I have a bad feeling about this."

She opened a small address book and dialed a number, waiting patiently for an answer. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sullivan. This is Claire DeFoe…I'm doing fine, but I had an odd request today that worried me. Could you come over and witness while I check some of Ms. Li's files?...Thank you very much." She hung up the phone and rubbed her eyes.

_What else did that Ms. Li get into? And why does Linda Griffin want to see the files?_

* * *

Mr. Sullivan was a striking man in his late thirties. His expertly groomed blond hair accented his tailor-fitted blue/black suit extremely well. Claire did have to admit that he was very enjoyable to watch, even if the wedding ring marked him as unavailable. "Mr. Sullivan, thanks for coming over." 

"My pleasure, Ms. DeFoe." He removed a key from his pocket and went to a file storage room in the back corner of the office. "What kind of request would be odd enough for you to want to check into it?"

"Linda Griffin was very eager to look for some correspondence she'd had with Ms. Li about the club her daughter was the president of. Something about helping her qualify for additional college scholarships."

"What's so suspicious about a parent wanting to get details for a child starting college next year?" He signed and dated a form on a clipboard hung from a hook next to the door and handed it to Claire.

Claire took the clipboard and also signed and dated the form. "Well, for one thing, Sandi's already in college."

Mr. Sullivan accepted it and placed it back on its hook. "Hmm. Maybe she's running a little short of money?"

"I doubt that. She never fails to remind me of how successful she is every time we have a conference about her son, Sam."

"You suspect something about the club?" He handed Claire a pair of disposable gloves and put a pair on himself.

"We could never figure out how that club got recognition. But, since they were mostly harmless, I hadn't worried about it until now." She put on the gloves. "Funny how I've accepted these as normal when looking at these files."

After several minutes of searching, Claire found a suspicious letter.

**From the desk of:  
Linda Griffin  
Vice President of Marketing  
KSBC Television  
Lawndale, MD. **

**Dear Principal Li, **

**In light of last fall's failure of the voter's initiative for additional education funding, I understand that your school is under monetary distress. I may have a solution to your current financial difficulties. I've enclosed the business card of Mr. Leonard Lamm. I think you will find his proposals to be quite rewarding for your school, as well as personally enriching. **

**Sincerely,  
Linda Griffin**

Several more letters between Linda Griffin, Angela Li and Leonard Lamm were included in the folder. Claire read through them with increasing shock and handed each to Mr. Sullivan.

Mr. Sullivan read through them and jotted down a neatly written note. "Hmm. Ms. DeFoe, may I use your fax machine?"

"Certainly."

"Thanks." Mr. Sullivan went to the fax machine and sent copies of the letters and his cover note. "Now, I need to call Judge Marchese." He opened his cell phone and hit a speed-dial button. After a short while, he said, "Your honor, Assistant District Attorney Sullivan. Sir, I just faxed over some letters to support a search warrant for the offices of Mrs. Linda Griffin at KSBC." He held the phone away for a second. "Don't worry Your Honor; she's in advertising, not the news department…You should have it…I'll wait."

Mr. Sullivan tapped his foot for several seconds before speaking again. "Thanks, Your Honor. Can you also issue one for her residence?...I'll take care of calling the police…Thank you, Sir."

* * *

"Look, I still don't want to leave a message. Tell Mr. Lamm to call Linda Griffin as soon as he gets in. Yes, it's very important. Thank you." Linda hung up her phone. "And tell the idiot to turn his cell phone on." 

"Damn slump in advertising. Why the hell did I keep this crap around?" Linda went to her filing cabinet and started removing folders. She took the small stack across her office to a shredder. "Need to make sure the trash is taken out tonight," she muttered and started feeding pages into the shredder.

"Argh," she exclaimed and answered the phone. "What is it?...What?...When?..."

Mr. Sullivan poked his head through the door. "Mrs. Linda Griffin?"

* * *

Mid-October: 

"Linda, the matching correspondence collected from everyone's offices constitutes powerful evidence against you. There's not a chance in hell we can get them thrown out since it was your call to Principal DeFoe that resulted in the first discovery. We can pretty much expect an indictment from the grand jury when it meets next month. Ms. Li's already neck deep in trouble and could plea-bargain to testify against you and Mr. Lamm. My sources tell me that Mr. Lamm would turn on his own mother to save his hind end," Mr. Stevens told his client.

"What do you propose?"

"You may want to consider a plea bargain yourself."

"A plea-bargain? I was framed."

"Your signature on the letters is damning."

"Mr. Stevens, those letters all used an electronic signature. They can't prove I actually signed them."

"What?"

"I send out dozens of letters a day; I don't have time to hand sign them. They're printed with an electronic copy of my signature. Somebody could have hacked into my computer and obtained the signature file."

"But, why?"

"Probably somebody wanted to cover their rear."

He looked straight at her. "Hmm. We may be able to distance you from the evidence in that case. How's this? Somebody at the station wanted a little extra cash, so they set up the deal using your name. That person split the kickback with Lamm and Li, while leaving evidence to implicate you. Now, you've been suspended and could lose your job." He rubbed his chin and looked up. "I think filing a civil case against the station in conjunction with our defense is in order. To restore your good name and protect your career."

"What will a civil case do?"

"It will support a criminal defense case that you were framed and wrongly accused. Remember, we don't have to prove you were framed, we just have to raise sufficient doubt that you weren't. It also effectively opens up a second front against the prosecution. This will depend on an aggressive attorney to handle the civil case."

"I think I know just such a person." Linda grinned.

* * *

Maryanne said over the phone, "Helen, Mrs. Griffin is here." 

_I wonder what that bitch is up to now?_ Helen answered, "Thank you, Maryanne. Please send her in."

Linda walked in and took the indicated seat. "Helen, thanks for seeing me. Congratulations on your promotion to partner. I hear you're already making a name for helping women in the corporate world."

"Hi, Linda. I'm in a position where I finally can make a difference. What can I do for you?"

"I'm in need of your services."

Helen smiled at the thought of getting Linda in her debt. "What seems to be the situation?"

"Someone at the station has planted falsely incriminating evidence against me. The station is using this to replace me with a younger, lower paid, subordinate."

"Well, Linda. That is the kind of case I'm trying to get the firm to expand into. Tell me about the specifics."

"Um, Helen. I need to be up-front with you to start with. Early on, I did something rather stupid that could make things difficult."

_Why does that not surprise me?_ "Please go ahead."

"The planted evidence was letters in my files implicating me in a complex kickback scheme involving Ms. Li at Lawndale High. When I found them, I panicked. I called the school to see if I could go look for copies, I told them I wanted some background information on my Sandi's old fashion club."

_As if you didn't have every instant of that club already documented._ "That doesn't look good."

"I know, like I said, I panicked. The new principal found the letters and they used that to get a search warrant my office and home. That's when I made my second mistake; I was trying to shred the letters in my office."

"Linda. That does make things hard. But, we may be able to work with it. Tell me about this kickback scheme."

"It involves a Mr. Leonard Lamm, who operates a soft drink distributorship for several companies and the former principal of Lawndale High, Ms. Li. In exchange for someone at the station getting Mr. Lamm in contact with Ms. Li, Mr. Lamm agreed to purchase large amounts of advertising time at the station for one of the brands he sold, Ultra Cola. Mr. Lamm also set up an exclusive contract with Ms. Li to have only Ultra Cola sold at the school."

_Ultra Cola? Why does that sound familiar? I'm sure it will come to me later._

"The company provided financial incentives to the school, pretty standard stuff. In exchange, someone at the station provided Mr. Lamm with a kickback from the ad fees, which was presumably split three ways."

"That's awfully convoluted, Linda. Do you have any ideas of who was behind it?"

"Someone higher up at the station, probably to boost advertising revenues for the February ratings sweeps. If we can sell out our high-end time slots, it means we can increase our advertising rates for the lower end time slots. The station gets a double win."

"Hmm. And they have a pre-positioned scapegoat. Linda, I'll take the case."

"Thanks, Helen. I knew I wouldn't regret coming to you."

* * *

Present Day, Early November: 

After remembering how she picked up Linda as a client, Helen sighed and told Daria, "It's a long story that I can't go into details with you about because of privilege. I can tell you that I'd been hired as Mrs. Griffin's lawyer in a civil matter associated with the case. So, Daria, I can't help you and because of your involvement, I can no longer be Mrs. Griffin's lawyer." Helen looked with trepidation in the direction of the other partners' offices. "This is not going to be pleasant on a lot of different fronts."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Sweetie, you've done nothing but the right thing all along. I should apologize to you. I completely forgot about you getting involved in that Ultra Cola situation at school. If I'd remembered, I would have turned Mrs. Griffin down."

"I guess that's what you call life. Can you refer me to someone, then?

Helen smiled. "I think I know just the person. I'll give her a call and make sure the billing goes to me."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Your father and I will be waiting for you. And, Sweetie."

"Yes?"

"I'm proud of you."

"Uh, thanks."

* * *

Helen hung up and immediately dialed another number. "Hello, this is Helen Morgendorffer. I need to speak with Linda Griffin right away." 

After a moment for the connections to be made, she said, "Hello, Linda. I'm sorry, but I have some bad news."

"Helen, what is it?" Linda asked.

"I have to remove myself as your counsel because of a conflict of interest."

"What?"

"My daughter has been subpoenaed as a prosecution witness in the grand jury proceedings."

"Those bastards! They're doing that to get you off the case! When the station says they're cooperating fully, it means they're trying to railroad me out of here!"

"She's a legitimate witness. Therefore, I can't be your attorney."

"Dammit Helen! Can't you see what they're trying to do?"

"I'm sorry, but the ethics on this are crystal clear. I have to completely remove myself from the case."

"Ooooh!" Linda slammed the telephone down.

Helen looked at the phone with a frown. "I don't like being played against my daughter." She picked up the file and flipped through the pages. "Damn, I hate this. I can see what you were trying to do, now, Linda."

She let out a deep, troubled sigh and looked at a photo of Daria. "I still can't figure out if your integrity would make you a great lawyer, of if your integrity would completely keep you away."

* * *

Linda yelled into her telephone, "What the hell are we going to do now, Mr. Stevens?" 

Mr. Stevens coolly replied, "First, you're going to calm down and tell me what's wrong."

"I just lost my civil attorney! Because her bratty kid is testifying to the grand jury."

"Hmm?"

"Yeah, hmm. Helen's daughter was called by the DA's office to testify."

"Let me check something." After a minute, Mr. Stevens said, "This is only a minor setback."

"Minor setback?"

"Yes. From my sources, this Daria Morgendorffer is well down on the list and will be questioned about events directly involving Lamm and Li. She's little threat to us."

"That's good, but what about the civil case?"

"We ask for a continuance while we search for a new lawyer. This will work in your favor. It will help to keep the civil case ambiguous but active enough to cast doubt when we go to trial."

"Great. I want to avoid a trial."

"Look, I told you before. There's a damn good chance all three of you will be indicted. We need to be planning ahead for the trial."

"Very well."

* * *

Daria answered her cell phone. "Hello." 

"Daria, how good to hear you. This is Carol Murphey."

"Ms. Murphey?" Daria was honestly surprised to hear from the well-respected elder lawyer.

"Your mother made a referral."

Daria gave a small smile. "She told me she had someone in mind. I thought she was calling someone in the firm, but I'm much happier she called you."

"She explained the situation to me as much as she could. It really is best for you to have someone totally independent of your mother or her employer."

"Well, I'm scheduled to appear next Wednesday and the DA's office has requested a brief interview on Tuesday."

"That would be pretty standard if they haven't interviewed you before. I want to meet you before then."

"I hope you don't mind me being a little groggy. It's a six hour drive to Lawndale and almost another hour to your office in Baltimore."

"I'll meet you in Lawndale, since I also want to be present during the interview."

"Thanks."

"We can catch up on details over lunch. How's the rest of the Honor Society doing?"

Daria gently smiled to remember the honor society that Ms. Murphey had helped set up. "Jane's one of my roommates here in Boston and is having the time of her life in Art College. Last I saw Mack and Jodie, they were both doing well."

"That's good. I noticed your sister was in this last year's group."

"She was; kind of surprised me."

"I look forward to seeing you, Daria."

"Same here."

* * *

Helen watched Jake as they ate dinner. "The other partners all about hit the roof when I told them." 

"Mmmm."

She tapped her fork on the table. "But they got over it when I reminded them how much the firm's last ethics violation cost."

Jake Morgendorffer swirled peas around on his dinner plate. "It'll be good to see Daria next week. It's been too quiet around here with our girls gone."

She sighed, but gently smiled, knowing that Jake had heard that Daria would be home for a couple days. "Much too quiet."

"I miss our girls."

"Me too. I never thought I'd want to hear Quinn going on and on about her outfits."

"I miss reading the paper with Daria."

"Or listening to them bicker."

"Helen…what happened? Before we had our girls, I never remember things being this quiet."

"Well, we spent a lot of those years with one of us in school, studying and the other working overtime."

"Oh, yeah."

"Jake…we also talked to each other more often."

"We did?"

"Yes, we did. We also went out more. Jake, why don't we go out to dinner tomorrow night? Someplace nice and romantic."

"Hey! That'd be great."

"I'll go ahead and make reservations."

* * *

The following Tuesday, Carol waited on a bench inside a restaurant. She rose upon seeing the young, auburn-haired woman enter. "Daria, good to see you." 

"Ms. Murphey, thanks again," Daria said to the bespectacled, older woman.

"Come on, I have a booth waiting for us." Carol moved a lock of white hair from her glasses and pointed.

Daria followed her while thinking, _Jane is so going to appreciate the irony of us meeting in the Good Time Chinese after that Halloween party weekend before last._

Carol picked up a menu and sat. "I hope you don't mind; I have a weakness when I'm in town."

Daria followed suit. "Not at all, I have some good memories because of this place."

Setting the menu aside, Carol said, "Why am I bothering? I know I'll order the Mongolian beef."

Daria looked past Carol to the steam tables at one end of the room. "If you don't mind, I'll have the buffet. I haven't eaten since my boyfriend brought some take-out breakfast over at five this morning."

Carol raised one eyebrow. "You have a boyfriend willing to crawl out of bed before five in the morning?"

"Um, yeah."

"Just to bring you breakfast?"

"We kind of have a running joke concerning cheap breakfasts."

Carol raised the other eyebrow. "As your counsel, I'd advise you not to make any incriminating statements."

Daria rolled her eyes. "The only thing incriminating is that he's crazy enough to put up with me. He drove over to my apartment from his dorm."

Carol snickered and shook her head. "Sounds like a nice boy, but I'll spare you any further interrogation on that subject. Now, tell me everything you know that might possibly concern the case."

* * *

Mr. Sullivan looked up in surprise when Daria and Carol walked into his office. "Carol Murphey? What a pleasant surprise." 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sullivan. I'm Ms. Morgendorffer's counsel," was Carol's response.

"I'm a little…wait…now I remember. Helen Morgendorffer presented the Lifetime Achievement Award to you at last year's Bar Association banquet." He looked at Daria and remembered more. "You're the young woman she spent most of the evening with."

Daria nodded. "That's me."

Mr. Sullivan pointed to comfortable chairs in the office. "Please, have a seat."

Once everyone was settled, he said, "Ms. Morgendorffer, I'm primarily interested in the events of the school review meeting where the Ultra Cola contract was discussed. I understand you were the only person to speak."

"Yes. Ms. Li called the meeting on Super Bowl Sunday, just before the game started."

"When did she publish notification of the meeting?"

"She didn't. She made an announcement on the intercom right after the last bell of the day the Friday before."

Mr. Sullivan grinned. "Interesting. No written notice?"

"No, she said they couldn't afford it."

He wrote a note on a legal pad in front of him. "Please tell me your recollection of the meeting."

Daria gave him a brief synopsis of the discussion that day.

He wrote some more notes and said, "After a couple weeks, you contacted Superintendent Cartwright about the situation, correct?"

"I visited his office and asked him to look into it. At first he sounded reluctant, because Lawndale was the only school in the district not running a deficit. But, he did come to the school to look into it, right when Ms. Li had her breakdown."

"Ah, yes. Her breakdown."

"That was kind of scary."

"I'm sure." Mr. Sullivan continued, "Ms. Morgendorffer, bear with me, I'm trying to fill in an important hole in our evidence. Do you have any idea of why Mrs. Griffin would believe that something about this case had been removed from her files?"

Carol placed a hand on Daria's to calm the younger woman and said, "Ms. Morgendorffer potentially has information on this subject. However, in trying to help another, she gave advice that may have resulted in an illegal act. This was done in good faith and I ask you to keep it under consideration."

"This is the biggest hole in our case. If you have good information, Ms. Morgendorffer, you will not be in any trouble."

Daria sighed. "It may have been Mrs. Griffin's daughter, Sandi."

"Please continue."

"Last August, I was visiting my parents when Sandi asked my advice on how to use the contents of a folded piece of paper against Mrs. Griffin."

"Did you see the paper?"

"No, I refused."

"What did you tell her?"

"Um…I knew that Sandi was holding a grudge against her mother and only had that paper to hurt her. I advised her to destroy it, walk away, and to rise above retribution. I think Sandi did, and I think it helped her."

"Destroying evidence. Now I know why you were concerned, but you don't have to worry, for yourself or Sandi."

Daria slid down an inch in relief.

"Okay. Why did Sandi Griffin come to you for advice?"

"I…uh… offered to help her earlier in the summer. As a result of my actions, Mrs. Griffin had Sandi fired from her job at the television station, for what was Mrs. Griffin's mistake."

"You're actions? Please explain."

Daria inhaled deeply. "I need your patience. I was really hoping not to talk about this. Last spring, I discovered that one of my old high school classmates had a website up with a bunch of clandestine pictures of me. It was very creepy."

"I can understand that."

"I noticed that one picture was a screen capture from some news footage taken…" Daria looked at Carol. "…Of the awards banquet where I met Ms. Murphey."

Carol's hand went to her mouth in surprise.

"I knew that KSBC had covered it, so I had an anonymous tip sent in to the network. Things filtered down from there and the website was taken offline. I found out later that the image had come from a tape taken home by Mrs. Griffin. One of her other children had traded it for some bootlegs."

"Uh, huh." Mr. Sullivan wrote on his pad.

"Mrs. Griffin somehow had Sandi blamed for taking the tape, so she was fired."

"Providing the incentive for her to break into her mother's files and steal something." Mr. Sullivan said, "In turn, you talked young Sandi into destroying the document and walking away from the situation."

"Yeah."

"Did you suspect that there was something illegal in the letter?"

"Yes." Daria looked down at her hands. "Part of me was wary to get involved with it. But, more important, I could see Sandi and her mother getting into a cycle of revenge. Even though I've never gotten along well with Sandi, I…wouldn't wish something like that on anyone. So, I did what I did."

Mr. Sullivan stared intently at his notepad. "There…aren't many that could do that. This helps me fill in important gaps. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"You do realize we will need to call in Sandi?"

"I was hoping you didn't, but I understand."

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"About the website. Who put it together?"

"Upch…Charles Ruttheimer III."

"I'm going to have that looked into, also."

* * *

"Just like old times." Daria looked at her parents' house as she got out of her black sedan carrying an overnight bag and her laptop computer. "Nobody home." 

She unlocked the door and went straight up to her old room, pausing for a moment before looking in the open door. Inside were the carefully chosen greens and wood tones that Helen had redecorated the room with a year earlier. Daria closed her eyes and imagined the gray padding and sawn-off bars in the windows. She quietly told the room, "I miss you, old friend."

Daria placed the laptop on the desk and her overnight bag on the dresser. "Time to get out of these semi-nice clothes and into something comfortable." She removed the soft, low boots she wore in place of her regular tall boots, and with a wrinkled nose, her socks. "Twelve hours is long enough." Finally, she removed her green dress shirt and black skirt.

While pulling fresh clothes from the overnight bag, Daria yawned and shook her head. "Maybe a nap is in order." She looked at the bed and yawned again. "Okay, I hear you."

She put on an old nightshirt, then folded her glasses and placed them on the nightstand. After a relaxed, "Ahh," she slid under the sheets and was almost immediately asleep.

* * *

Jake called out, "Daria?" as he walked in the front door. The usual silence of the house was all he heard. He went upstairs and noticed the door to her old room partially closed. He went to it and said, "Daria?" 

"Ungh?" Daria muttered and put her glasses on.

"Catching a few winks before dinner?"

Once Jake came into focus, Daria said, "Hi, Dad. Something like that."

She tossed the sheet aside and stood up. Jake gulped and turned to look down the hallway, saying, "Um, Daria. Think you might want to put something on?"

Still struggling to come to full consciousness, she said, "Dad? I've worn this for years."

Jake continued looking down the hall. "Uh…you look different." Jake leaned against the doorframe and shifted his gaze to the carpet. "Really…not like a little girl anymore."

Beginning to sense her father's discomfort, Daria looked down at herself. The shirt wasn't embarrassingly out of place anywhere, though her legs were bare from mid-thigh down. Slowly, it registered in her mind how much her feminine form was noticeable in the slightly tight shirt. Oops.

Moving in a wide arc, she went behind the door. "Sorry, let me get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs."

"Okay, Daria. See you downstairs."

Right after Daria closed the door, Jake wiped his brow. _She really has grown up._

* * *

Jake was placing a skillet on the stove when Daria came into the kitchen. He said, "I'm just getting ready to whip up some dinner. I've got a new recipe I want to try out." 

She made her way to the refrigerator and took out a soda. "Let me help."

"But, you're our guest."

"Think of it as making up for not helping much when I lived here." _And I see the jumbo family-sized bottle of Egyptian hot peppers you have on the counter._

"In that case, sure."

They worked together in silence for a couple minutes, each still a little uneasy. To break the silence, Jake asked, "Long day?"

"I was up at four, drove for six hours to get here, and spent all afternoon with lawyers."

"Yep, long day."

"Now I know why Mom's sometimes so cranky after work."

Jake chuckled. "She's gotten better."

"I was hoping that making partner would let her relax some."

Silence continued for several more minutes before Daria said, "Dad, I'm sorry I embarrassed you up there."

Jake gave her a slightly sad smile. "I hope I didn't embarrass you."

Daria held her father's hand. "I've grown up more than you expected, haven't I?"

Jake nodded.

_I've missed too many chances. He needs something. _"Dad…part of me will always be your little girl."

Jake smiled and abruptly embraced her. "Thanks, Kiddo!" He just as abruptly looked worried. "Is it all right to call you that?"

_Just a little more, he is your father. _"Yes, yes it is."

* * *

"Oh, Sweetie! You helped your father with dinner? Thank you," Helen exclaimed as she came into the kitchen. "Just let me get out of these work clothes and I'll be right down to set the table." 

She rushed upstairs and returned a few minutes later in casual clothes. As she went past Daria, Helen whispered, "Thanks, I notice the new peppers are unopened."

Daria whispered back, "All in a day's work."

* * *

"Thanks for calling me, Mr. Sullivan. This means I'll miss another day of class and another day of work, but I'll be there tomorrow instead. Oh, could I get that in writing? Some of my profs are real hard-cases about missing class." 

Daria nodded listening to his reply. "Okay, thanks. Good-bye."

Daria closed her cell phone and looked at the wall of her bedroom. "Wonderful, now I have a whole day to kill in sunny, exciting Lawndale. Or, I could just do my homework and not put it off until the weekend."

While waiting for her laptop to boot up so she could email her professors and boss that she wouldn't be in the next day, Daria thought about what to do. "Outside of Trent and Lindy, there's not a lot of people around here I want to see. Lindy's probably at work and I bet Trent's asleep. So, I guess it's homework."

* * *

The next morning, Daria stepped away from the witness stand with relief and resumed her seat as Sandi Griffin was called up. 

Carol leaned close and whispered, "You handled yourself very well and make a hell of a witness."

Daria whispered back, "You mean all those years of honesty might have paid off?"

"And it's going to keep paying off for you."

Daria watched the three under investigation. Mr. Lamm seemed almost bored by the proceedings. Ms. Li's eyes darted from place to place, as if looking for an escape. Mrs. Griffin sullenly sat and watched Sandi, a slow burn of anger growing.

Mr. Sullivan faced Sandi. "A little background, please. You are currently a freshman at Northern Coastal State University?"

"I am."

"How are your college expenses being paid for?"

"My parents set up a trust fund."

"Have you been applying for any additional scholarships?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Maybe your trust fund isn't enough."

"It pays for everything."

"So you mother would have no reason to look into your high school records for materials needed for scholarship applications."

"No."

Looking at his notes, Mr. Sullivan said, "Moving on. Last August, did you remove a letter from your mother's filing cabinet pertaining to a Mr. Lamm and Ms. Li?"

Sandi was nervous, but after she noticed her mother's cold stare, she braced herself and said, "I did."

Mr. Sullivan handed Sandi a reconstructed sheet of shredded paper in a plastic cover. "Ms. Griffin. Does this look like a photocopy of that letter?"

Bereft of emotion, Sandi gave it a glance. "Yes."

"Did you put a photocopy of the original in its place?"

"Yeah."

"Yesterday, did you agree to be fingerprinted?"

Sandi looked down at the slight stain remaining on her fingers. "Yes."

"These," Mr. Sullivan held up a folder and said, "Are the results of fingerprint analysis of the photocopy. There are three separate matches for Ms. Sandi Griffin, showing that she had handled it. In addition, her prints do not appear on any documents recovered from Ms. Li's or Mr. Lamm's offices."

He set the folder down and said, "Why did you take it?"

"I wanted to get even." Sandi looked sad. "Mom forged my name on a videotape copy sign-out sheet at the station and got me fired. Just to cover her butt. She'd checked out the tape and forgot about it."

"This would be the tape that Ms. Morgendorffer described in her testimony?"

"Yeah."

Mr. Sullivan turned to look at Linda. "Why did your mother bring the tape home?"

"It's kind of silly."

"Please, indulge us."

"It was some lawyer's banquet the Morgendorffers were at. Mom didn't recognize Daria, and brought the tape home to ask me who she was."

"And Ms. Morgendorffer has already detailed how the tape was traded to a third party and an image from the tape illegally used, resulting in the station discovering the tape was missing." He looked back at Sandi. "What did you do with the original letter you took?"

"Um…I tore it up at a rest stop on I-95 and threw it in the trash. Like Daria said."

"So you changed your mind about getting even with your mother."

"Yeah." Sandi looked at Linda again. "It felt good to tear it up." She shifted her eyes to her lap. "I didn't want to come here. I only wanted to not be hurt anymore."

Mr. Sullivan addressed the grand jury. "For the record, Ms. Sandra Griffin was subpoenaed to appear and did not volunteer." He turned to Sandi. "Thank you, Ms. Griffin. You are excused."

* * *

Outside the courtroom, Daria caught up with Sandi. "I wish I could have kept you out of this." 

Sandi slowly turned. "That's okay. You did that honesty thing of yours."

"Um, yeah."

"Mom screwed herself."

"Looks like it."

"Um…Daria. Thanks."

"For what?"

"Being honest."

Sandi jogged away before Daria could say, "You're welcome."

* * *

Inside the near-empty courtroom, Linda's eyes burned with pure malice. "I don't believe my own daughter did that. After all I did for that miserable bitch." 

"Look." Mr. Stevens told Linda, "It really is in your best interest to try a plea bargain."

"What the hell did you say?"

"They just completely connected the dots, and our civil case has been shot out of the water. The station now has a legitimate case to dismiss you completely separate from the kickback scheme. You should've told me about that videotape and forging your daughter's signature on the log. It's in your best interest to turn before someone else does."

Linda glared at him.

"We'll also be able to negotiate a better deal if you do it before the grand jury returns the indictment. At this point, I can guarantee one. If we move fast, we might avoid jail time for you."

Linda looked at Ms. Li and Mr. Lamm plotting with their lawyers. Resting her head on arms folded on the table, she said, "Make the deal."

* * *

The landlady told Mr. Sullivan, "I'm sorry, but I haven't seen young Mr. Ruttheimer since yesterday. He's probably still at school; goes to Lawndale State. I think he went somewhere else last year, but something happened." She fitted a key into the lock and opened the door. "There you go, sir. I hope he's not in any trouble." 

Mr. Sullivan followed two police officers inside. "Ma'am, I always hope I'm wrong in these situations."

Several minutes later, they found a spare room filled with bootleg videotapes. Plus, there was a bulletin board covered with photographs of Daria. Mr. Sullivan pulled one away: on it was an image of Daria leaving the Good Time Chinese restaurant with Ms. Murphey. "Because it's so creepy when I'm right."

"Hey! What's going on here?"

Mr. Sullivan and the officers turned to see a young man with curly red hair in the doorway. Mr. Sullivan said, "Mr. Ruttheimer, I presume?"

* * *

"Corruption, bribery, kickbacks. What a mix," Daria read from the newspaper article Helen had sent Daria. "I suppose Mrs. Griffin cut a nice deal for the guilty plea, but it does feel like the good guys won for a change." 

A meow at her feet got her attention. "Okay, you can come up."

Bump jumped into Daria's lap and rolled onto her back, gently pawing at Daria's stomach. Daria smiled at the feline, "Cute is not a generally accepted principle in this house, but you're young, you'll learn." As she used one finger to softly stroke the fur along Bump's throat, the cat rocked her head back and purred in contentment.

"Argh," Daria grunted and shifted to the side to free her ringing cell phone. "Hello…Mr. Sullivan?"

Daria listened with widening eyes before saying, "Um…thank you."

A few minutes later, Jane walked in and found Daria on the sofa, holding the cat in her arms. "Hey, Daria? You're pale as a ghost."

Daria slowly turned her head. "You remember that website of Upchuck's?"

Jane frowned. "Yeah."

"Because of what I told the DA's office in Lawndale, they searched his apartment." Daria breathed deep twice. "He was stalking me."

"What!"

"Jane…he had photos of me meeting with Carol last week. From the sounds of it, there were photos of me from each time I've visited Lawndale since last spring."

"That's scary."

"They also confiscated hundreds of bootleg porno tapes."

"Uh…"

"And what's worse, he's out on bail."

"Whatcha gonna do?"

"Mr. Sullivan recommended I play it safe for now and not give him any opportunities. If he's still hanging around Lawndale, I think it might be a good idea to skip going home for Thanksgiving this year, maybe even Christmas."

"Hmm."

"Yeah, hmm."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

April 2005


	7. For This, We're Thankful

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-Fourth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

  


**For This, We're Thankful**

"I'm going to rip that little puke's throat out!" Jake growled, sounding eerily like his father.

Lawndale County's Assistant District Attorney, Kyle Sullivan shook his head. "No, Mr. Morgendorffer. Under no circumstances do we want Mr. Ruttheimer to claim any kind of victim status."

The arm of his chair would probably have Jake's fingerprints permanently embossed into the leather by the time he left. "Can't you lock him up?"

Mr. Sullivan said, "The problem is, all we have him on now are a stack of copyright violations and one count of selling adult-oriented material to a minor. He was easily able to qualify for and post bail."

"He was stalking my daughter!"

"Yes, but this is where cases become difficult and dangerous. Besides watching and taking photos, Mr. Ruttheimer hasn't really done anything. We can't do more until we can prove at trial that he's dangerous to your daughter."

Helen asked, "So, what do you plan to do about it?"

"Mrs. Morgendorffer, your daughter had restraining orders placed on him to stay away from her person here and in Massachusetts, her current residence, and your residence."

Helen folded her hands together. "Mr. Sullivan, we both know how effectively useless those are at protecting someone."

"Regrettably correct. This is where you two come in. We need to catch him doing something that we can put him in jail for."

Helen narrowed her eyes to slits. "And you want us to…?"

Sullivan steepled his fingers. "Accept your daughter's invitation to go to Boston for Thanksgiving."

Jake said, "How did you know about the invitation?"

"Daria and I discussed some things before you arrived."

Helen asked, "What things?"

"Our psychologist believes there is a high risk that Mr. Ruttheimer will try something dangerous if your daughter returns to Lawndale. With the discovery of his spying and photography, he may feel that he only has a limited time to attempt anything. We want to catch him without putting anyone at risk."

"I assume that having us go to Boston is part of a plan."

"Yes, Mrs. Morgendorffer. Your daughter is a smart girl. Most of this was her idea."

* * *

Jane Lane was at her easel painting when she noticed her apartment-mate, Daria, leaning against the doorframe. Jane said, "What's up?" 

Daria carefully said, "From what Mr. Sullivan told me, you were also in a lot of Upchuck's photos. Please tell me you're planning to stay here for the holiday."

"Do you think I'd pass up the first time you host your parents for something?"

"Good…I think."

"You're worried about me."

"Yes. We don't know how dangerous Upchuck might be."

"Well, thanks. By the way, I was talking with Karen, we're also worried about you and figure there's safety in numbers. She's not going home either."

"I really don't…"

"It's easier on my wallet," Karen Myerson said over Daria's shoulder. "I'm doing better than last year, but I'm still not as flush with cash as you are."

"I appreciate the company," Daria said in return.

"Um…." Karen verbally fumbled slightly, "I hope nobody minds that I sort of invited Derek over."

Jane said, "I won't hurt to have a trained professional in kicking butt around."

Daria shook her head. "Well, then I won't feel bad about inviting Michael."

Karen put out her hand. "Then we're agreed. Thanksgiving in Boston."

Daria and Jane reached in and all three shook hands.

"But next year," Karen added, "I'm dragging everyone down to Georgia."

Daria smiled, "Deal."

"Equal opportunity mooching, I'm in," Jane said with a laugh.

Karen half-smiled. "Great. Now, can we safely assume that I'll be cooking the turkey?"

"Don't look at me. I haven't cooked anything larger than a chicken," Daria said.

Amazed, Jane said, "A turkey, you really want to cook a turkey? A whole turkey?"

Karen smirked and put her hands to her hips. "It's not rocket science."

"Wow. A real fresh-cooked turkey."

"Why do I have a feeling this will be a first for you?"

"Because…it will be."

* * *

"Eww, Daria. That is so creepy," Quinn said over her cell phone while lying on her dorm room bed. She thought, _Even worse than that Bobby who followed me when we stayed at Le Grande Hotel after the fire. That was only a couple days. Upchuck's been following her…eww._

Seated at her computer, Daria replied over a matching cell phone. "No kidding. I always thought of Upchuck as annoying, but when you consider…I don't want to think about it."

Quinn looked at her dark-haired roommate. "I asked about what we talked about last time, and Fran's aunt and uncle said it's fine for me to spend the holiday with them."

"Good. You'll, um, tell them thanks, please."

"I will. Um, Daria, be careful. I know you're trying to keep me safe. You do the same."

"Don't worry, Quinn. As much as I grumble at times, I still think this life is better than the alternative. I'll make sure I stay safe."

"Thanks. I hope this clears up so I can see you for Christmas."

"Me too."

"Bye, Sis."

"Bye, Quinn."

* * *

"That's a hell of a plan, Daria. Thinking like that is one of the reasons I love you," Michael Fulton told Daria as they sat together in a small Greek restaurant the next day. "Most people would be freaked out, but you came up with a solid way to deal with the bastard." 

Daria looked worried. "Trust me, I am freaked out. Coming up with a plan is my way of dealing with it."

"Like I said."

Daria said with feigned indignation, "Fine, be that way."

"Seriously," Michael said, "I like how you can face the problem even when you're scared. However, I'm glad you'll have a lot of people with you, just in case."

"So, it won't exactly be a romantic get-together for two…" Daria said to lighten the conversation.

"Hey, it'll sure beat the Raft Cafeteria turkey loaf I had last year," Michael joked.

"You didn't go home last year?"

"Nah, I couldn't see the point when I'd be flying home for Christmas in only a couple weeks, and besides, it would have taken a bite out of my spring finances."

"Oh." Daria looked down at her dolmades. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For…jeez, I turned you down the day before and then you had to eat a Raft Brick for Thanksgiving dinner. That must've really sucked."

"Hey, you more than made up for it when you changed your mind the next Monday." He leaned over the table and gave her a quick kiss.

Daria looked in his eyes and softly smiled. "You know, because of my parent's stories that weekend about how they got together and how it convinced me to give you a chance…I'm always going to have a reason to be thankful at this time of year."

"And I have even more reason."

* * *

Over cocktails at a local lounge, Jake talked with a client and remembered some of the discussion with Mr. Sullivan. He suppressed a shudder. 

_"You will need to casually drop it into a few normal conversations," Mr. Sullivan explained. "Kind of like you would normally discuss her plans to visit." _

Helen complained, "Why the verbal charade about her car not working?"

Mr. Sullivan slid a photo of Daria with Carol Murphey across the table and said, "Mr. Ruttheimer knew Daria would be in town for the grand jury testimony last week. We suspect he has some way of knowing whenever she'll be here. He may get suspicious if he doesn't see her car at your house."

Jake asked, "How did he know?"

Mr. Sullivan shook his head. "We haven't figured that out. But some kind of eavesdropping is a simple explanation."

Because he also knew it helped to connect with some clients, Jake went into a mild rant. "My daughter's car broke down and the mechanic can't get the part until after the holidays so she won't be able to drive."

The client nodded and smiled. "I feel your pain. My son's car threw a rod last spring. Damn mechanics can smell college students a mile away."

* * *

Helen sipped her glass of wine at the partners' lunch, watching and listening. As she'd previously suspected, a lot of the firm's business was conducted at these lunches, away from the hungry ears of the associates. 

However, not all conversation was business related. Her former boss, Eric Schrecter asked, "How are your daughters doing?"

Helen smiled, "Okay. My youngest is having a good time in California. However, my oldest won't get her car back until next Monday."

"That must be putting a crimp on things. Remember, enjoy the long weekend, you're a partner now. You can call the associates as much as you want, let them do the worrying."

* * *

After a pleasant Sunday afternoon of museum visits, Michael took Daria to a harbor-side seafood restaurant. Seated in a secluded corner, Daria had just finished telling Michael about her birthday adventure the year before with her Aunt Amy and Karen. "We never did figure out what those guys thought we had." 

"I'm never gonna top that story." He got up from his chair. "I'll be back in a minute."

Daria was curious when she noticed he hadn't gone to the restroom, but outside. She shrugged and looked out the window at the harbor lights.

Soon, Michael returned with a waiter following him. The waiter quietly said, "Happy birthday, miss," and placed a small cake with a single candle on the table in front of Daria.

Michael knelt beside her and gently put one arm around her shoulders. "Happy birthday."

Daria didn't think about doing it, but enjoyed emotional warmth when one hand clutched his first gift to her, the green and gold pendant around her neck. She blew out the candle and softly told Michael, "Thanks"

"How does it feel to be finally out of your teens?"

"Like a very convoluted chapter has ended." Daria watched the young man smile at her. _A quiet, dignified, romantic dinner with a man who honestly loves me to end the day, I couldn't ask for anything more._ "And a better one is starting."

Michael revealed a package he'd brought in and handed it to Daria. "I love you."

"That's sweet." She hefted the package. "Feels like a book."

Michael innocently smiled.

"When you smile like that, I get worried. What is?"

"Open it and see."

Daria removed the wrapping to find a book with a dark green leather cover. The letter 'D' was tooled onto the front and set off with gold leaf, along with the page edges. She flipped through the heavy-weight, blank pages and found a small tag on the back cover that read: "_Hand-bound using the finest archival quality materials and acid-free 100 cotton paper."_

"This is…incredible. Where did you find it?"

"One of the living history guys at the National Park got me in contact with a friend who does book binding. I told him what I thought you'd like, and he put it together."

"You had this made for me?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

She embraced the book with both arms and leaned against him. "I love you."

* * *

Still feeling the warmth on her lips from Michael's farewell kiss and holding her book close, Daria went into her apartment. Her black cat, Bump, meowed and jumped off the sofa to greet her. Daria bent over to pet the cat's head. "Hello, are our psychotic housemates around?" 

Almost in answer, Jane's voice came from the kitchen. "Yikes, Karen. That thing's big enough to feed Mystik Spiral."

Karen chuckled and said, "Half the idea of Thanksgiving is eating the leftovers for the next week."

Daria said, "Yep, and it sounds like they went shopping."

Karen said, "I hope those pecans Mom and Dad shipped show up on time, I don't want to use the local poor excuses for the pie."

Daria stood up. "I better go check on them."

"You're really getting into this." Jane added, "Trying to show off your domestic side for Derek?"

"Um…maybe a little."

Jane laughed loudly. "I knew it."

"Or maybe I'm just going to enjoy the power."

"Make sure you use it responsibly." Jane turned to see Daria enter the kitchen. "I think somebody had a happy birthday, what do you say, Karen?"

"Oh, yeah. No mistaking the look on her face." She playfully tossed a lock of Daria's hair back. "Or the mussed hair."

Daria blushed slightly. "Yes, I did." The blush faded as she needled Karen, "Though I seem to remember you came home Friday with only half your shirt tucked in."

Karen turned away with her own blush. "Oh, well, um."

Jane snickered.

Daria raised an eyebrow at her. "You still haven't explained that tongue stud that fell out of your shirt pocket in the laundry."

"Uh…long story?"

Daria looked at the large quantity of food Karen and Jane were putting away from grocery bags. "You have enough here to supply us for the winter. How much do I owe you?"

Karen handed Daria a cash register receipt. "Well, you're responsible for four of the seven eating, but I'm bringing Derek, and we all know his appetite. Call it half."

"Call it three quarters, you're doing the cooking."

"Daria, I'll be having fun. Don't worry about it."

"Two thirds."

"Five eights"

Daria sighed. "Okay, deal."

Jane shook her head in amusement. "That had to be oddest haggling I've ever heard."

Karen poked her finger at Daria's book, "We know that male of yours has interesting taste. Come on and show us your goodies."

* * *

Stifling a yawn late Wednesday evening, Daria waved to her parents walking down a boarding ramp at Logan International Airport. Helen waved back and pulled an unsteady Jake along. 

"Hi Mom, did Dad have a couple on the flight?"

Helen rolled her eyes. "Yes."

Daria took up a position on Jake's other arm. "Hi, Dad."

Jake took a moment to focus. "Hey, Kiddo."

"Why don't we get you to my car. It's in the short-term parking."

Jake slurred, "Wha 'bout the luggage?"

"Mom and I will handle it."

"Okay."

* * *

Carrying her father's suitcase, Daria asked Helen, "I hope the air mattress works okay for you. We didn't really plan for guests, so all three of us bought single beds, or else we'd offer one of them." 

"Honey, don't worry. We'll do fine."

"Just to warn you, the place is insulated to nineteenth century standards and tends to be on the cool side."

"We packed warm sleepwear."

"And don't worry; nobody sleeps in anything revealing that'll embarrass Dad."

"Good."

In a more serious tone, Daria asked, "How did things go with the house?"

"The nice policewoman who put up cameras managed to dress a lot like you. She set up cameras to watch the doors, your room and the stairs."

"That must have been strange."

"It was, and having all those cameras..." Helen shivered.

"With luck, they'll record what we need."

"I hope so, though I'm not comfortable with the thought of him breaking in."

"That's why I wanted you out of the house after the police psychologist told me he might try something."

"I also felt odd sneaking out back to catch a cab to the airport."

"The idea was to make it look like we were all home." Daria shook her head. "Anyway, you're here, that's the important part."

* * *

Early in the morning, Karen was preparing the turkey for roasting when Helen sweetly said, "Hello." 

"Hey Mrs. Morgendorffer. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No…I was already awake and thought I'd make breakfast since you're going to be so busy with everything else."

"You don't have to."

"Karen, I'm returning the favor. If everyone else can make breakfast in my kitchen, I can make it in someone else's."

"Okay, I yield. I think you can find the fridge, the skillets are under the oven, the utensils are in that drawer, the spices are in the cabinet to your left, and holler if you need anything else."

"Thanks."

They worked at their tasks, mildly awkward in the small kitchen. Helen watched Karen stuffing the bird. "Cornbread dressing. I haven't seen that since we left Texas."

Karen smirked. "Don't worry, I didn't use any Tex-Mex spices in it."

"Thank goodness."

_I'm not going to ask. _Karen thought as she went back to work.

A few minutes later, Helen had just finished breaking eggs into a bowl when she let out an "Eep!" that startled Karen.

Concerned, she said, "Are you okay?"

Helen looked straight ahead and nervously said, "There's…something rubbing against my ankle."

"Oh, it's just Bump. She likes you."

Helen carefully looked down and visibly relaxed at the sight. "Whew. Daria mentioned a cat."

"Uh…you have a problem with cats or something? You…looked scared for a second there."

Helen wiped her forehead. "Oh, no. Just, um…never mind."

Karen crossed her arms. "Come on. Don't dangle something out like that and not tell."

"I'm sure Daria mentioned Jake and I lived in a commune when we were your age."

"Yeah."

"Well…it wasn't the best sealed building in the world and there were a lot of animals running around. We would sometimes get rats. Very big rats."

"Let me guess, they were also bold."

Helen nodded.

"I get the picture." Karen bent over and said to Bump, "Shoo. We're busy in here. Go bother your Chief of Staff. Tell her you're hungry or something."

* * *

"Who are you, and what have you done with my mother," Daria said, watching Helen place a serving plate of pancakes on the table. 

"Thought I would help out a little, Sweetie. I am still capable, you know."

"Ah, you're trying to shock me into waking up."

Helen gave Daria a knowing smile. "It worked."

"Good one."

Helen looked over at Jake curled under a blanket and lightly snoring. She said, "I suppose I should wake him before breakfast gets too cold. What about Jane?"

"Um, don't worry about her. Some things never change, she might be operating under her own power by noon."

"But her pancakes will be cold."

"Mom, as long as they haven't turned fuzzy, Jane will be more than happy with them."

Karen said from the kitchen, "If she can shave the fuzz off, she'll still eat them."

"Oh." Helen cautiously looked toward Jane's room.

Daria gazed through the top of her glasses. "Mom…joke?"

Helen cracked a smile. "Oh."

"We better wake Dad up."

* * *

Jane munched on a rolled up pancake slathered with peanut butter. Slurping coffee to wash it down, she said, "These are good." 

Helen carefully said "Thanks."

When the doorbell rang, Jane got up to answer it. "That's why I like the peanut butter, makes pancakes mobile food."

Jane peeked through the spyglass and opened the door for a tall, well-built man with brown hair. She yelled back, "Karen, it's yours."

Derek Adler shook his head. "Hi, Jane."

Karen walked over with a towel tossed over one shoulder. "Hey." She quickly kissed him and pointed him toward the living room. "These are Daria's parents, Jake and Helen."

He waved at them.

"This is my boyfriend, Derek."

"Nice to meet you," Helen said.

Jake jumped up and walked over to shake his hand. "How's it going, my man."

"Going."

"Hey, ready to watch some football?"

"Um…I was kinda hoping to catch the Wings marathon on Discovery."

"Oh?"

"I'll show you later." He looked at Karen waiting. "We're going to check on things in the kitchen."

* * *

Michael arrived a few minutes after and Daria let him in after a quick kiss. 

He waved and said, "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Morgendorffer."

Both of them came over. Helen briefly hugged him, "Hi, Michael."

Jake shook his hand. "Dude, are you ready for some football, or you also interested in that Wings stuff?"

He crookedly smiled, "Well, my vote was for the _Barbarian Invasion _marathon on the History Channel."

Jake looked down. "Oh."

Daria tugged on Jake's sleeve. "Don't worry, if Georgia's playing somewhere, Karen will want to cheer them on, if Florida's playing, she'll cheer the other team on."

* * *

"Okay, now that everyone's here, I'm going to introduce you to a fine old Myerson family tradition. Forced labor," Karen, arms folded, announced from the kitchen door. 

"Sure, I'll…" Helen started to say.

Karen cut her off. "You made breakfast, you're exempt and get to choose the TV channel."

Michael shrugged. "As long as you work within my limited culinary skills."

"You're shelling pecans."

Derek half grinned and looked up. "I don't suppose you need a sometimes-expert at peeling potatoes."

Karen wrinkled her nose. "Why would I want to do that? Oh, yeah." She playfully winked at Derek, "Some of you Yankees do that to their poor mashed potatoes. Nah, you're chopping veggies for the salad."

Karen looked at Jane. "You make the punch. I'm sure you can find some creative mix to inflict on us."

"Oh, yeah!" Jane grinned and cracked her knuckles.

"Oh, God," Daria said. "Okay, I'm ready for my sentence."

"I need you to half-shuck the corn."

"Sounds like fun."

"Why do you think I'm farming it out?"

Jake said, "What about me?"

Karen pointed to Bump sleeping on his lap. "You're in charge of keeping Her Highness from getting underfoot while we work."

"Sure thing!"

* * *

"You're a guest, they'll insist. Just have a seat and let us set the table," Fran told Quinn. 

"Okay, but I'll help if you want."

"Thanks for the offer, we won't be long."

Quinn sat in the living room of Fran's aunt and uncle's small southern California desert home. Her gaze was drawn to a framed family portrait on an end table. A dark haired man in a suit stood with his hands around the waist of a blonde woman in a red dress. Posed in front were two girls, the older with dark hair and a younger blonde.

Quinn picked it up and looked at it closely. Curious, she examined the back and saw written:

_May 1992. Fran 10. Donna 7._

"That was taken about a month before…" Fran's voice caused Quinn to jump.

She looked up. "I'm sorry, I was…"

"That's okay, in a way, you got to meet them."

"Yeah."

"I still love them and like to remember."

Quinn nodded. "Um, if you don't mind, your aunt and uncle seem kind of young."

"They'd only been married a couple years. David's my Mom's younger brother. When I got out of the hospital after the accident, he and Beth were the best situated to care for me."

"Ah."

"I know it was hard on them, but they've never complained." Fran looked to the kitchen. "Um, by the way, the table's ready."

Quinn followed her into the kitchen. A couple in their early-thirties, Beth and David were already seated. A turkey breast was placed in the center of the table and serving bowls containing potatoes, dressing, and vegetables were around it. Beth said, "Please."

After Quinn sat down, David said, "Let us be thankful." He reached to the center and presented the turkey to Quinn.

* * *

During the final preparations, Karen grabbed Daria and pulled her to one side. "Okay, I'm dying of curiosity. Last year, you mentioned that your Dad wasn't allowed near a turkey after the 'fireball' incident. What the hell happened?" 

Daria looked briefly toward the living room before dragging Karen into her bedroom. Daria whispered, "When I was thirteen, Dad decided to cook a turkey with a big barbeque grill."

Karen closed her eyes in with an "I'm afraid I see what's coming," expression.

Daria caught the look. "Yep. The fire went out and Dad decided to relight it."

"With a tad too much lighter fluid?"

"Too much of one of his co-worker's 'home-brew' lighter fluid that was 'guaranteed to ignite a sack of wet newspapers.'"

After covering her mouth to suppress a laugh, Karen asked, "What was the blast radius?"

"Actually, the over-built grill directed most of the blast upward…but the burning turkey was thrown two blocks away."

"Wow, was anybody hurt?"

"Dad didn't need to shave for a month afterward."

"That's not too bad."

"I think the greatest damage was that an idiot boy I went to school with saw the flaming turkey. It seemed to have started some kind of fascination with fire for him. Along with his buddy, I'm surprised that they didn't burn the town down over the next two years."

* * *

Karen finished dishing up her dinner in the kitchen and went to her seat. All seven people were gathered around the small, cramped table, Michael, Derek and Jane seated in camp chairs, everyone else on the regular chairs. 

Karen looked over the table and felt good. She smiled and said, "If I may. With family and friends. For this, we're thankful."

Soft agreement came from everyone else. Michael bowed his head, glanced at Daria and closed his eyes for a second.

Daria noticed and reached over to hold his hand.

Jane bit into a slice of turkey from her plate and sank backward. "Mmmm. Wow. I didn't know turkey had flavor."

"Shocking, isn't it?" Daria quipped.

Derek patted Karen's shoulder. "Ah, this is good. Damn, you're giving me another reason to keep you around."

"Keep me around?" She said. "I thought I was the one keeping you around."

"More like you chase each other around," Jane said with a smirk.

Michael chuckled. Derek said, "Don't even think of saying anything. If anyone in this room is farther gone than me, it's you."

Daria leaned against Michael's arm. "It's my allure."

Helen watched the young people laugh at Daria's comment. _That is something she never would have said a year ago._ Helen remembered with gentle sadness the togetherness she shared with the rest of the commune thirty years earlier, but was pleased to see Daria sharing something similar.

Jake looked up from his sweet potatoes. "Hmm?"

* * *

Late in the evening, Daria sat on her bed and wrote in her new diary about the day, including a call from Quinn, and a quick birthday celebration with her parents. Satisfied, she closed the book and said, "All in all, a good day." She placed the diary in a fireproof box and locked it. With an understated smile, she slipped under the blanket and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

In the semi-darkness of the Morgendorffer house in Lawndale, a voice said, "Grrrow. So this is the feisty Ms. Morgendorffer's bed. Alas, regrettably unoccupied. Therefore, I must use my imagination…"

* * *

"Sorry I can't stay longer, Mrs. Morgendorffer. I agreed to work extra today to give one of the full-timers a long weekend. I need to be at the zoo by eight," Karen, already dressed, explained. 

Helen waved her hand at Jake asleep on the air mattress. "Don't worry. You do what you have to. Jake and I both thank you for that marvelous dinner yesterday."

After a shrug, Karen said, "You had me over last year. And I don't get to cook like that often around here."

"To be honest." Helen nodded to Daria and Jane's rooms, "I'm surprised those two aren't living on a diet of sugar tarts and pizza."

"They would if they could. Look, I've really got to go. Have a safe trip home."

"We will, thanks."

Karen grabbed a travel mug of coffee and was out of the door quickly.

Helen went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. She looked around the kitchen and living room, at the buff-colored, smooth plaster walls, the dark green window frames and wainscoting, and the aged hardwood floors.

She sat at the table and sipped her coffee. "This really is a lot nicer than that old farmhouse we used as a commune when I was her age."

After more coffee, she smiled. "She actually made a positive comment about being attractive. I doubt she'd say that outside of last night's company. But after all these years, I'll take it."

Helen went to the window near the apartment door and looked out over the back yard of the home. Beyond, the rest of the city rose up through the morning haze. Abruptly, she laughed. "Daria's exactly the kind of daughter that Mother wanted me to be in college. Perfect grades, a nice place to live, a clean-cut boyfriend…" Her voice dropped to a practiced whisper. "…no drugs."

"Mom, you're talking to yourself. Am I going to have to bribe Quinn to take you out shopping?"

Helen spun around in surprise. "Oh, honey! I didn't know you were awake."

Still in her sleepwear, Daria said, "I figured you'd be up, so I set my alarm."

"I must have been in my own little world, I didn't even hear it."

"So, was that a private conversation, or can anyone join?"

"I suppose I could make it public."

"I caught 'clean-cut boyfriend.' I take it Michael still meets with your approval."

"Yes."

"Thanks. You do realize I can't let you call him that when anybody else is around."

"He'd be mortified."

"Not to mention what it would do to my lack of reputation."

Helen laughed lightly and gazed around. "Can I be serious for a second?"

"I guess."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Becoming a young woman I know I don't have to worry about so much."

"Mom, I'm just surviving college."

She gave her daughter a knowing look. "You're doing a lot more than surviving. You're…"

"If you say blossoming, I will kill you."

"No, you're taking control. Even with the horrible situation with that Ruttheimer punk."

"Thanks," Daria's mood darkened, "I'd managed not to think about him for a while."

"Sorry, but still…that shows what I mean. You've taken control of the situation instead of letting him keep control."

"At least I hope so." Daria relaxed a little "You've been getting that urge to keep up with me again, haven't you?"

"It's part of the contract."

* * *

After the flight and taxi ride home, Helen hoped she could relax, but approached the house with trepidation. Jake nervously watched the house windows. Inside the living room, things seemed fine. Helen went upstairs while Jake went to check the kitchen. 

Helen peered into Daria's room and her hand quickly went to her face. "Oh, my!" She turned and yelled downstairs. "Jake! Don't touch anything!"

He yelled back, "What was that?"

"Don't touch anything! Somebody was in here."

She opened her cell phone and hit a speed-dial. "Hello. This is Helen Morgendorffer. It looks like we had a break-in…Eleven-eleven Glen Oaks, correct…Yes, and please send the crime scene technicians…Thanks."

Moments later, Jake was by her side. "How do you know?"

Helen pointed into Daria's room, and the single red rose lying on the bed.

* * *

Officer Parks mumbled, "I thought only ladies selling cosmetics owned pink cars." The older-model convertible and its plates matched the description of a person wanted on multiple arrest warrants. With one of the warrant charges a violation of the anti-stalking law, Parks unsnapped the safety trap on his sidearm and got out of his police cruiser. 

The red-headed man in the car sat still as Parks approached, and presented his driver's license as soon as Parks reached the door. The young man said, "What's the problem, officer?"

After a brief check that the ID and driver matched, he said, "Mr. Ruttheimer, please step out of the car and place your hands on the hood."

Using his old stage magic skills, Upchuck slipped the palmed cash out to his fingertips and discreetly flashed them at Parks. "Is that really necessary?"

Parks carefully took the money and said, "Yes, it is. Please step out of the car."

"But, you just…"

"Accepted evidence."

"Officer. I really need to be…"

"Slowly opening the car door and getting out."

Upchuck gulped and said, "Sir, perhaps we can arrange for a more…um…generous compensation package?"

Parks leaned forward and growled. "Get out of the car before I remove you from it."

Upchuck started to look in his rear-view mirror and to the sides

"Don't even go there. I'm really not in the mood for a car chase."

Confused, Upchuck looked around more.

"Get out of the car you stupid little punk!" Parks barked.

"Ah!" Startled, Upchucked tumbled out of the car.

Parks grabbed his arm and swung him around, shoving him hard against the car hood. "Spread 'em."

Parks patted Upchuck down and handcuffed him. "You're under arrest."

* * *

"Okay, Mom. Thanks for letting me know…Yes, I'm feeling a lot better now." Daria hung up the phone and turned to Michael waiting in her dining room. "Upchuck was arrested on his way out of Lawndale with two suitcases and a plane ticket to Boston." 

"He was coming here?"

"Yeah. I guess after not finding me at my parents' home, he decided to try." Daria shivered. "The DA convinced a judge he was a flight risk, and bail was set high. When dear old Charles Ruttheimer Jr. found out his errant son was fleeing and would've forfeited his previous bails, Junior cut Upchuck off and wouldn't post a nickel. Upchuck's in for the duration."

"But, what kind of duration?"

"The videotape clearly shows him in the house, and though he wore gloves then, he'd handled the rose without them earlier. They should be able to convict him on multiple charges, not to mention the bribery attempt caught on the patrol car video."

Daria pulled Michael's arms around her waist and leaned against him. _I know it's purely emotional, but I've also started to feel protected in his arms. _"I'm glad it's over, I was scared."

He kissed her cheek. "I'd say you were brave about it."

Daria pulled his arms around a little tighter and kissed him back. "Having you with me helped, thanks."

"I love you, but all I did was stand around and hold you."

She smiled and rested her cheek on his chest. "Like I said."

"Well, I'm thankful your plan worked and nobody got hurt."

"That makes both of us".

* * *

Thanks to Mr. Orange and Ipswichfan for beta reading.  
. 

May 2005


	8. A Few Important Details

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.   
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-Fifth story in the Falling into College series. 

Richard Lobinske

**A Few Important Details**

Michael Fulton drove through light, blowing snow to a residential section of southern Boston. A quick look at the single yellow rose in a bud vase supported by the cup holder of his car brought a warm smile to his face. It's been one year since she made me happier than I thought possible. 

"She" was Daria Morgendorffer, the bespectacled, auburn-haired young lady whom he loved and had been dating for a year. 

_Love_. The realization had only taken a couple months after their first date, during a telephone conversation with his sister. 

_"Hello," Gina Fulton said into the telephone as she leaned a dining room chair back against the wall. Across the table, her best friend, Natalie, munched on a breadstick. _

Michael asked, "Hey, Gina, is Dad home?" 

"Nah. He and Mom went out for dinner and a movie. Don't tell me you're broke already, Goofball." 

"No, I'm not broke." 

"Well, then why did you call?" 

"Um…I was hoping for a little advice." 

"What you could you want from…?" Gina grinned. "It's a week until Valentine's Day; you want advice on what to do for that girl you like." 

"Uh…well, yeah." 

Natalie yelled over, "I think she's a figment of his imagination." 

Gina half-covered the phone and said back, "I thought that, but my brother could never think up a name like Daria." She said Daria's name with a faux accent. " I think she's real, though I'm not sure what planet she's from." 

Michael frowned slightly. "Keep it up, brat." 

"But I do it so well. So, what kind of advice do you need? Being of the female persuasion, I just may be able to help." 

"She's a smart nineteen-year old, not a fifteen year old with chronic brain damage. I don't think your tastes would apply." 

"Oooh. Sounds like you really like her." 

"Yes, I do." 

"Well, how much?" 

"Very much. I think she's…" He stared at his dorm wall for several seconds in surprised thought. 

"You think she's what? Cute? Sexy? Lavender?" 

Michael slowly refocused. "The best thing that's ever happened to me." 

Gina grinned. "And?" 

Daria's intelligence and honesty were the first things that came to mind as he thought of her. He pictured her soft face and long, full hair, and then her expressive, deep brown eyes and they way they always seemed to add to the meaning of what she said. He also remembered the small sarcastic, cynical remarks that often brought life's absurdities into focus. He looked directly ahead. "I love her." 

"Whoa. Did I just hear you right?" 

"Okay, Sis, sometimes you are good for something," Michael mused as he stopped at a traffic light. "Even if it took me almost two more months to tell her, and then I blurted it out like an idiot after that concert in the quad." 

_Ken belched and said, "Dude, you're grinning like a bird-fed cat." _

Michael ignored his piggish roommate and flopped onto his dorm bed, thinking. She was a little freaked, but she didn't run away. I think she wants to love me in return. I hope so. 

_"Hey, did you finally get to second base with this chick?" Ken interrupted his reverie. "You know, if you've only gotten that far after four months, I think you need to think about finding another girl." _

"Coming from somebody with less of a social life than me, that's special." 

"Hey, just because I don't follow society's norms about appearance, doesn't mean I don't know how to deal with chicks." 

"That you pay fifty dollars an hour." 

"Hey, a chick's a chick." 

"Do you mind if I want something more?" 

Ken sat up. "You're hopeless, man. Oh, well. To each his own." 

When the light changed, Michael drove onward, quickly suppressing the bad memories of their temporary breakup at the beginning of summer, though he did himself allow a warm memory of the emerald and gold ring in a lockbox hidden inside his closet. I can dream. 

Michael pulled into the driveway of the 150-year old house and followed it around to the back to park. Turning off the ignition, he sat back and remembered the sleepless night after she first said "I love you," while they watched Fourth of July fireworks from his father's boat. 

_Gazing out his window to the east, Michael thought of Daria on the flight back to Boston and how much he already missed her. "Only a month and a half. It's not that long." _

He held a small photo of her in his hand, one quietly taken by Daria's friend and roommate, Jane Lane, which she'd given to him with the explanation, "She hates being photographed." 

"She loves me." He looked back out the window. "How did I get so lucky?" 

He spent the night sitting and staring out that window, contemplating that question until the morning sunlight shone. 

The snow blew around Michael's feet as he climbed the outside stairs and rang the doorbell of the apartment. "Happy anniversary," he said as Daria opened the door. 

She accepted the proffered rose and led him inside. After closing the door, she rose up on her toes and kissed him. "Happy anniversary." 

Michael softly embraced her. 

Daria stepped back and brushed the transferred snow off her blouse. "And it's just as cold as last year." 

"Now I wish I hadn't waited a month to ask you out." 

Daria placed the small flower vase on the table and said, "That would have avoided the 'cold day in Hell' claims about somebody dating me." 

"Funny, but can you blame me for wishing for an extra month of being with you?" 

"Still trying to strengthen the case for having your head examined?" 

"Why, am I growing an extra nose again?" 

Daria buttoned her heavy coat and wrapped a blue scarf with the word "Revolution" spelled out in white around her neck. She went to Michael and put her hands on his cheeks. "I have to wonder about the sanity of anyone who's put up with my bad moods and insecurity." 

He kissed her. "You put up with my bumbling and cluelessness. I'd say we make a good match." 

"Oh, misery loves company. That does seem to be the trademark for my relationships." 

"So, let's go out there and share the misery."

* * *

After a pleasing evening of a movie at the same theater as their first date, they had returned and were in Michael's car. Daria slowly pulled away from him, endeavoring to catch her breath and holding his hand pressed against her bare side. "Okay…time to slow down." 

Michael opened his eyes and nodded. "We were getting a little carried away." He moved his hand and pulled the edge of her blouse back down. 

Daria leaned over and kissed him. "Michael…we need to think about this." 

He very gently embraced her. "You only have to say no." 

She leaned her head against his chest. "Michael, I know I can trust you, I doubt my ability to say stop." 

"Daria?" 

She looked up at him. "You don't want to stop, either." 

"Are you suggesting?" 

"Yes, but not now. Not in your car." 

"Not exactly a romantic spot or the warmest." He thought for a moment before saying, "Not that I'm not…interested, but why have you changed your mind?" 

"I've…um…have kind of wanted my first time to be special. I'm becoming afraid we might…because we…" 

Michael kissed her. "Lost control?" 

She nodded. 

He stroked her full, auburn hair. "We wouldn't be the first if we did, but I don't want that either." 

"Thank you." 

"What do you suggest?" 

"I don't know yet."

* * *

Daria pulled the fireproof safe from under her bed and opened it, removing a leather-bound book and a small box. She took both to her computer desk and sat down. The book she opened and quickly flipped to her last diary entry. From the box she removed a silver fountain pen and scratched it on some loose printer paper to get the ink flowing. She thought for a moment and began to write. 

**_December 3 _**

Michael and I have been together for a year now. This anniversary, we both remembered. Does that make us an "old couple"? 

Daria continued to write for a while, describing the evening up to their time in his car. She remembered the night they were snowed in after Jane's birthday party and slept next to each other on lounge chairs. 

_ "Sometimes…crap…" Michael said, "Sometimes…I dream…" _

"Dreaming is a natural consequence of REM sleep." 

"I dream about you." 

Feeling weird and flattered, Daria said, "Oh?" 

"I…well…this is embarrassing." 

"Please, don't tell me I'm wearing spandex in your dreams." 

"Uh…no." 

"Or black leather." 

"N…no. Normal clothes, usually." 

Daria released her breath. "Good." She moved closer and kissed him. A thought crossed her mind and she narrowed her eyes. "Usually?" 

Michael closed his eyes in grim anticipation. "Can I trade in that cookie now?" 

"That was only if you put your foot in…" Daria's mind began to link his words. "…my hand drifts anywhere when…I dream about you…Normal clothes, usually." Her eyes popped open wide and she felt the warmth of a deep flush on her face. "You dream about…" 

"Like I haven't had similar dreams. I know Karen and Jane have been amused by hearing me when I have them. I still can't believe I wrote a story about one of them, even if I couldn't resist putting in some supernatural elements." Daria smiled remembering the dream that inspired that story. Next, she recalled that night at Jane's was the first time that Michael had touched her anyplace that could be considered intimate. 

_Daylight illuminated the room as Daria awoke with a start to realize that a hand was resting on her breast. Her tension lessened as she noticed her hand held the other. She turned her head to see Michael asleep beside her, his face slightly distorted by the pillow. Near his open mouth was what looked like a small spot of drool on the pillow. Nobody's perfect. _

She lightly smiled and watched him for a few minutes. Gently, she removed his hand and crawled off the chair. 

Still looking at the empty page of her diary, she said, "I suppose we have been rather tame for a couple college students dating this long." She closed her eyes and slowly rocked her head back. 

_She and Michael sat together on one of the sofas in her parents' home. Daria looked into his green eyes and softly said, "Thank you for driving all the way here from Detroit to make up. That means a lot to me." _

He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled. "I only beat you to it because I had a car and you didn't. Call it even." 

Daria drew him into an embrace. "But you did it." 

Softly, Michael put his arms around her and on a whim, gently drew his fingertips up along her spine. 

Eyes open wide in surprise, she sharply inhaled in pleasure at the touch. 

"I think you liked that," he whispered. 

"And I still do." Daria began to write again. 

**_I still can't believe some of the feelings I have for Michael when we're together. I used to look down on them, but now they feel right. I'm learning to accept that physical attraction and desire for intimacy is an aspect of being in love. But, part of me is still scared. _**

We came very close tonight when we got back from the movie. In some ways, things are going in parallel with what happened and didn't happen with Tom. But, in others, it is very different. Then, I was thinking we should have sex more because it was a natural progression of our relationship, but didn't really feel the desire. This time, I feel the desire. This also has me uncertain because it will mean allowing my body to have some say in what I do, instead of maintaining strict intellectual control. We decided that we will, but not any details like when or where. 

Plus, there are still so many questions. I've been on the pill for six months now, so that one is answered, though I wouldn't put it past him to insist on a condom as a redundancy. At this time in our lives, I still can't disagree with that. Mostly, I think the question is, "Am I ready to let even Michael get that close to me? Will this change how we relate to each other?"

* * *

The next day at noon, Daria drove her car from the staff parking lot to the entrance of Raft University's Newton Hall to pick up her other roommate, Karen Myerson. She jogged to the car and skidded on the ice when she tried to stop, thumping into the door hard. 

Karen frowned and climbed in, rubbing her hip. "Evil stuff is worse than wet clay on a tile floor." 

"Still learning to walk on ice?" 

"Yeah. Don't get much of it in south Georgia." 

"We didn't see it in Texas, either. But a couple years in Maryland was enough." 

Karen grinned. "I better get used to it for this weekend." 

Daria gave her a fast glance. "What's this weekend?" 

"A friend of Derek's father has a time-share at a ski-lodge in Vermont. I won't even try to replicate the convoluted history, but Derek gets to use it this weekend, and he's going to teach me how to ski." 

"Um…ski?" 

"Yeah, knowing me, I'll probably break my neck." 

"So, you'll be gone for the weekend?" 

"Leave Friday and get back Sunday night." 

"Just the two of you?" 

"Well, that will be a nice part of the trip." 

"So…" Daria looked at the steering wheel. Um, and there's more than just skiing is on the agenda?" 

Karen blushed. "Uh, yeah. That, too." 

Daria nervously replied, "Well…have fun. And try not to break a leg, you're not doing theater."

* * *

"New York, here I come!" Jane yelled as she entered the apartment that night. 

Daria spun her desk chair around to see Jane dancing in the hall and said, "The trip to the Met we went to that Halloween party for?" 

"And they bumped it up to this weekend! So I get to have fun now, instead of after finals." 

"This weekend?" 

"The bus leaves BFAC Friday and gets back on Sunday evening." 

"You sound excited." 

"Oh, yeah. I've wanted to go there for years. Anyway, you and Karen will just have to survive without me for a couple days." 

"Karen's going skiing with Derek this weekend." 

Jane smirked. "Ooooh. Place to yourself all weekend." 

"Looks like it." 

"Now's your big chance to take advantage of Michael." 

Daria turned her reddening face away. "Um…okay. Big chance." 

Jane giggled and went into her room. "Even more fun than teasing her about Trent."

* * *

As Daria opened the door the next evening, she heard Michael say, "Pizza!" and rush in from the cold. 

She took the flat box so he could shed his Park Service jacket and said, "Thanks for picking it up for me." 

"I couldn't pass up the chance to spend time in civilization." 

"Bad day at work?" 

"I knew people could be pigs, but today…" Michael shook his head in serious disgust. "I picked up trash off the USS Constitution. God, even there, people will leave the most amazing crap behind." 

"We are a race of barbarians." 

"At least I didn't find any used diapers like I have on the Freedom Trail." 

"That still boggles the mind." Daria set the box on the table, where a stack of plates was already present. "Jane's out on a date and Karen will be here later. Help yourself." 

He picked up a slice and ate a bite. "You sure can cook a good pizza," he added with good-natured sarcasm. 

"Hey, this time of year, buying the pizza is considered the same as cooking dinner." 

After picking up a slice, Daria directed him to the sofa. 

They ate in silence until Michael asked, "Something wrong?" 

Daria cautiously said, "Remember our talk Sunday night?" 

"It would take a thirteen ton weight dropped on my head to make me forget that." 

"Uh…" Daria twisted her hands together. "Karen and Jane will be gone this weekend." 

"Oh." He reached over and held her hands. "So you're thinking we'll…then?" 

She nodded. 

"Whoa. That's…so soon. 

Daria nodded. 

Michael said, "Do you have anything…else in mind?" 

"I don't know." 

"How…" Michael stopped, swallowed, and tried again. "How about…I mean, we've never done a fancy date." 

"Fancy?" 

"Um, you know. Like formal clothes and a ballet or something. Just, something special." 

"I've never done something like that. But, I think I'd like it."   
He stroked her cheek. "And…be prepared to change our minds about…how we end the night?" 

She drew him close. "In case I chicken out." 

He softly held her.

* * *

"Can I cut out a little early?" Daria asked Dr. Killarny, her boss at the Raft University Press. 

He looked up from his computer. "Where are you at on your assignments?" 

"I finished off the Markham manuscript today and didn't want to start a new one with only twenty minutes left. So, I thought I'd see if I could leave a little early to take care of some personal business." 

"If you got that mangled mess in shape, go ahead. You deserve it." 

"Thanks." 

Daria closed her jacket and crossed the Quad to the Student Center and waited a few minutes outside one office for a woman with slightly graying hair to emerge. 

"Carolyn? Can I have minute or two?" 

Carolyn Poole, the school therapist that she'd visited before, smiled. "Daria. We can talk while I go to my car if you want." 

"Works for me." 

After they'd cleared the building, Carolyn asked, "What's on your mind?" 

"Any advice on how to know if you're ready to be, um, intimate with someone?" 

"Is this a before or after type of question?" 

"Before." 

"Good. I like that about you, Daria. You think ahead and have a good sense." 

"I know I love Michael, but I wonder if that's enough." 

"And I'm sure he loves you, but you're right. Love alone isn't enough. Is he someone you plan to stay with?" 

"Yes." She looked down at the pavement of the parking lot. "I hope to always be with him." 

"And he with you?" 

She smiled. "I know that if I told him 'yes' today, he'd be shopping for a ring tomorrow." 

"You're still holding off on the idea of marriage?" 

"After everything that happened last May." 

"You still have that trauma associated with it." Carolyn pressed the button on her car remote and the locks opened on her white Corvette. "Daria, you have the information you need to make an informed decision. How much you love each other, and more important, how much you are committed to each other. There are no defined guides or thresholds for this. Do what you do best, be honest with yourself." 

"Thanks, that helped."

* * *

Michael sat on a bench overlooking the harbor near the naval yard. _Am I being selfish?_

The waves splashing against the seawall provided no answer except to counterpoint the traffic noise from the downtown area behind him. 

_I suppose. I've thought about this for almost as long as we've been dating and a big part of me wants to. But, does that mean I shouldn't try to get us to wait? Is this only lust, or is it more?_

Closing his eyes, his mind went back to the beach trip the previous summer. Quietly sighing, he could almost feel her in his embrace as they swam together. With her clad only in a swimsuit as they moved through the water, she was nearly naked, with only the thin fabric between them. He felt such closeness and happiness to be with her, he enjoyed her warmth in his arms as he helped her unsteady swimming. 

He leaned back on the bench and folded his arms over his chest. _I wasn't feeling lust then, just closeness and joy. Okay, maybe I'm not just being selfish. One more question._

He sat still for many minutes before telling the waves, "I'm as fully committed to her as possible. She's the only one for me. I will be hers, if she wants."

* * *

Friday, Karen looked at Daria with wide eyes. "Do I know what I'm doing?" 

Daria said in return, "Derek is going to take you up the side of a snow-covered mountain. There, he will strap an almost-frictionless surface onto the bottom of each foot and push you down the slope. I'm not sure." 

"That's a lot of help. The closest I've done to this has been water skis." 

"Just reminding you again, don't break anything. You started out this semester in a cast; you don't need to make a habit of it." 

"Trust me. That's not in the planning. Although…if Derek breaks a leg, I could have him completely under my control." 

"Providing you with certain advantages." 

"I'm starting to like this plan." 

Daria smiled and shook her head. "Enjoy the ski trip." 

"I will. You have any plans with Michael while we're gone?" 

"He'll be coming over for Saturday night." 

"That's nice." Karen picked up her suitcase and started for the door. "Wait." She paused and watched her roommate. "That sounded like he's staying the night." 

Daria blushed. "Probably, but we're not certain…yet." 

Karen nervously smiled. "I'd be a hypocrite to tell you don't do anything, and I know I don't have to tell you to take precautions." 

"Karen, do you regret it?" 

"Sometimes." Karen clearly felt uncomfortable about the subject. "But overall, no." 

"Um, what about the waiting for marriage bit?" 

Karen gave a short, anxious laugh. "When I think of how freaked I'm going to be when I get married, adding that on top would likely be too much." 

"And people say I'm overly practical at times." 

"You are, but that means I can't?" 

"No." 

Karen asked, "You're not going to discuss this with Jane, are you?" 

"After the grief she gave me when the subject came up between me and Tom, no." 

"Good plan. I need to get going. Bye." 

"Good-bye. Have a safe trip." 

Karen lifted her suitcase and headed out, stopping on the landing to look back. "Have fun, whichever way you decide."

* * *

Jane walked swiftly by carrying her round, black suitcase. "Don't wreck the place while I'm gone." 

Daria looked over the back of the sofa. "Okay, only minor surface damage. Have fun at the Met." 

"I hope so. What are your plans?" 

"Kind of the usual, a date with Michael on Saturday." 

"Well, have a good time. See you Sunday night." 

"Later."

* * *

"Saturday already?" Daria stared up at the ceiling over her bed and remembered making a similar statement a couple years earlier while dating Tom. After putting her glasses on, she slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. "Maybe just letting things happen would've been a lot easier than this drawn-out planning and waiting." 

Later, still in her warm, long nightshirt, Daria sat at the table, eating a bowl of oatmeal. "No, that might have been easier up front, but…" Daria gave a short laugh and smile. "...I'm enough of a romantic to want something more. Something like that I'd regret for a long time." 

Putting the dishes in the washer, Daria still felt nervous. "Maybe a voice from the past might also help." 

She opened a steamer trunk and sorted through different volumes marked by year. "Mrs. Blaine, I've often found good advice by reading your life." 

A couple hours later, she found an entry in the "1936" volume. 

**_July 15 _**

Sorry I didn't have time to write yesterday, but Mark and I were just so busy. Our wedding was delightful. I think keeping it simple was the right answer. Reverend Tyler was a bundle of laughs before we started and helped to calm my nerves. Much to my relief, I didn't trip over my dress on the way down the aisle. I don't think I've seen Dad so thrilled in my life, or that Mom would ever stop crying. 

Diane caught the bouquet during the reception. Boy, did she eye Ronald afterward. He better get on the ball soon. Stu caught the garter. Maybe this means he'll find somebody this year. 

Mark's car made it to Niagara Falls without a problem and we found our hotel after only getting lost for a while. The honeymoon suite is very nice, though we can only afford to stay in it for a couple days. 

Yes, I was scared when we went to bed. Mark was very patient and in the end, I was very happy. I guess some people would consider me a bit naughty, but I'm looking forward to a lifetime in bed with him. 

Daria closed the book and gently put it back in place before sealing the trunk. "Once again, thank you." 

She pushed the trunk under her bed with a grunt. "One more thing," she said before getting her cell phone from on top of her computer desk. 

After dialing and waiting for a response, she said, "Mom?" 

Helen replied, "Hi, Sweetie. How are you doing?" 

"I'm fine. Um, you once said you wanted me to talk to you first. Well, I wouldn't mind a little advice." 

"Why, sure. What did you want to ask me about?"

* * *

Todd Baker leaned back in his desk chair and propped his feet on the desk. "Best of both worlds. Because Mom's only a few miles away, I don't have to make a bunch of travel plans to see her on the holidays. But, I get the privacy of staying in my own place and don't have to deal with the insanity of home the whole time." He laughed. "And everyone said I was nuts for staying in Boston for college." 

"Hmm." Michael grunted from where he sat on the bed, staring at the dress pants still held in his hands. 

"Dude, what's up with you?" 

"Um…a little nervous about tonight." 

"That's an understatement." 

"Okay, fine, very nervous." 

Todd looked at the rest of the suit and tie set out on Michael's bed. "You're really getting the good stuff out. Must be planning something special with Daria." 

"Yeah." 

Todd walked over and sat next to Michael, putting an arm around his shoulder. "It's none of my business what's up, so I won't ask." 

"Good, I don't feel like a answering." 

"Dude, she's a class act. Make sure you treat her that way and you won't need to be worried." 

Michael looked over. "Thanks."

* * *

"I haven't had this on in almost a year and a half. But, tonight's a good night." Daria gently unhooked a zippered garment bag from her closet and laid it on her bed. After opening it, she removed a black silk gown and a short, black velvet jacket embroidered with green-black roses. 

"Okay, I guess I should've expected that," Daria mumbled a few minutes later as she closed up the gown. "Those freshman pounds are still hanging on. I'm glad this thing has a little extra room around the middle, or this would be embarrassing." 

She opened the tiny jewelry box on her dresser and started to remove the silver necklace that she'd bought with the gown, but stopped and put it back. "You're for a different purpose." Daria picked up the malachite set gold necklace and pendant she normally wore and put it on. She followed with the jacket. 

After fastening the silver buttons on it, she went to the bathroom to look in the mirror. The tailor-fitted gown still accented her petite, small frame elegantly. _The malachite does look good on this. Quinn would kill to hear me say that._ She smiled. _ Don't worry, inner cynic, I still draw the line at makeup._

* * *

After Michael rushed inside and closed the door, he stopped to look at Daria. "Wow. I saw the painting Jane did of you in this, but the reality, wow. You're so beautiful." 

She put her hand around his neck and brought his head down for a kiss. "You were the first person to say that to me." 

"That's something I'll never understand." 

"Like they say; beauty is only skin deep and I hid the skin well." 

Michael slowly shook his head. "I hate that cliché. Attractiveness is skin deep. Beauty is something from within that reaches out and touches the heart of others. That's what you have." 

"Thanks," Daria said and blushed. "You're not so bad yourself." 

"Ready?" 

"Yes." 

As Michael helped her with her coat, Daria said, "You know, this is the first time I've seen The Nutcracker done by professionals instead of students." 

"I've never seen it at all." 

"Philistine."

* * *

Late that evening, Michael and Daria stopped just before they went inside. He looked up at the full moon high in the cold evening sky. "That seems just right." 

Daria looked up. "Appropriately romantic for this evening." 

He gently embraced her. "I love you." 

She reached around his waist and kissed him. "I love you." She held herself against him for several seconds. "I'm not nervous anymore." 

Michael let loose the embrace, but held both her hands. "There's little something I want to do for you, while we're still under the moonlight. This may seem a bit odd, but for me, it seems appropriate." He cleared his throat and sang in a soft, slightly burred, tenor: 

_Hello   
I've waited here for you   
Everlong_

* * *

Under the comforter, Daria awoke on her left side with Michael spooned against her, his right arm over her waist and her hands clasped around his, holding it over her heart. _I love you. _She savored his gentle, caring embrace. The realization dawned that just as physically there was nothing between them, emotionally, it was the same. _All of my old barriers are gone for you._

Michael was amazed at how well they seemed to fit together. _I love you. _ The soft warmth of her skin against his brought a feeling of supreme joy. _I wish I could wake up every morning like this._ He also felt protective of Daria and knew he would do anything for her. 

Daria turned her head and Michael could see her profile. He whispered, "Like waking next to an angel." 

She opened her eyes. "That's something I don't remember being called." 

Michael leaned over and, as always, felt himself fall into her beautiful, brown eyes. He lovingly kissed her. "But, perhaps you should. Good morning." 

Daria rolled toward him a little more to see his crystalline green eyes better. She reached over and cupped a hand over his cheek. "Good morning in return." 

He moved his hand up and caressed her forehead. "How are you doing?" 

"Sore, but nothing to worry about." 

"I'm still sorry. I…" 

She interrupted him with a kiss. "I didn't expect it to hurt that much, either. But, it wasn't your fault." She rolled her eyes a little playfully. "I also didn't expect things to be so messy after." 

Michael chuckled. "Yeah, one of the details nobody ever tells you about." 

Daria very softly kissing him again and said, "You kept your promise, last night was special." 

Michael said, "When my father gave me the 'birds and bees' speech, he said, 'Sex is a very pleasurable experience, that's why it's so popular. But, when it is done with true love, it will be one of the most joyous things imaginable.' Now I understand." 

Daria stroked a finger along his eyebrows. "Before, I resented the idea that physical intimacy was part of a good relationship." She kissed Michael slowly. "But with you, I feel so much closer." 

She completed rolling, facing him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held herself against him. Michael closed his eyes and enjoyed her embrace. He reached around and delicately traced a finger along her spine. She sharply inhaled and arched her back at the sensuous touch. 

Daria looked past him at her closet. "You know, there's one down side to sleeping like this." 

"Hmm?" 

"With the ancient insulation this place has, the rooms get pretty chilly. Eventually, we'll have to get out from under this warm blanket to get our clothes." 

Michael lightly kissed her neck. "We don't have to be in a rush, do we?" 

She closed her eyes and relaxed under the kisses. "No rush at all."

* * *

Helen sat in bed, hugging a pillow. _She's no longer a little girl, no matter how hard I wish._

She felt mild jealousy of Daria as she remembered the impulse, excitement, and regret of her first time. Helen would never forget the sting of the stunt car driver saying, "Cool, another one. I love this job." 

_I'm glad she trusted me enough to talk about it first, and that she made her decision out of love._

Helen sighed and looked at Jake, asleep beside her. Memories of their first time together flooded back. They were both eighteen; he was clumsy and almost petrified. Helen gave a short laugh. At the time, she'd been glad to have a little experience. She wished now that it had been her first time, too. _Daria, I envy you that._

Helen set the pillow aside and snuggled next to Jake and he instinctively put his arm around her. Helen closed her eyes and held her husband. _But that's in the past. We've been loyal to each other for thirty-two years. Even in the group house, we never strayed. Thank you, Jake._

* * *

Standing on the stair landing, Daria spent several minutes looking at the driveway that Michael had just driven down. "Okay, that's one down side. It's a harder to watch him leave." 

She went inside and sat on her bed, stroking her hand on the side Michael had slept on. Daria imagined several older versions of him asleep there. "I'm looking forward to a lifetime with you."

* * *

Moving stiffly, Karen worked her way inside the apartment. 

Daria looked up from her dinner. "Are you okay?" 

"Nobody told me that skiing used so many different muscles that I don't normally use." 

"Good, it was sounding like you fell off the mountain or something." 

"No such luck." 

"Darn, now I'll have to drop my plans to convert your room into more closet space." 

"Yeah, right. You seem in a good mood, things must have gone as planned." 

Daria nodded. 

Karen shook her head. "No details. I'm not Jane." 

"Thank God."

* * *

Tired from the long trip, Jane went straight to her room, tossed the suitcase on top of her laundry hamper and immediately changed into sweatpants and a shirt. Coming out of her room, she noticed Daria on the sofa, a soft smile on her face as she looked out the window. 

"Morgendorffer, what are you grinning…" Jane's eyes widened in surprise. "So that's why you didn't mind having the place to yourself all weekend." 

Daria blushed, but didn't lose her smile. 

"Come on girl, give me details!" 

"We had an excellent dinner, watched _The Nutcracker_ and came back here to spend the night together." 

"And that's all I'm going to get, right?" 

"Until I write my autobiography." 

Jane laughed until a realization hit and she leaned back against the table. "I don't believe it! You mean that out of the three of us, I'm the last?"

* * *

Thanks to Ipswichfan for the title suggestion. 

Lyrics to _Everlong_ by the Foo Fighters. 

The Revolution scarf comes from Ipswichfan's story, _A Night at the Soccer Game._

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange and for beta reading. 

During the writing of this story, one of my long-time beta readers, Kristen Bealer, married the love of her life, Bryan. Best wishes on many happy years together. 

June 2005. 


	9. Christmas Melody

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-sixth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske 

**Christmas Melody**

Daria Morgendorffer watched the straggling line of passengers disembarking from an overnight flight from Los Angeles. It took a second glance for her recognize the head of short red hair that belonged to her sister Quinn. Daria waved and Quinn waved back as she worked her way through the mass of tired travelers.

Quinn dropped her carryon and grabbed Daria. "I'm so glad to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Daria said, returning the favor.

Quinn looked at the young man near Daria, his red hair the same shade as hers. "Hi Michael."

Michael Fulton nodded. "Hey Quinn. How was your flight?"

Quinn let go of Daria and picked up her luggage. "So-so. The breakfast was horrible. Do you mind if I pick up a fat-free yogurt before we get the rest of my luggage?"

"At least some things don't change." Daria reached over and flipped the end of Quinn's short hair. "Unlike others."

Quinn smiled. "Yes! I know it had an effect if you noticed."

Michael held out a hand toward Quinn's suitcase. "Hell, even I noticed that you cut at least a foot off."

Quinn handed it over. "Thanks."

After Quinn picked up her replacement breakfast, they walked toward the baggage claim area of Logan International Airport. After a short distance, Daria asked, "Okay, I know you want me to ask; why the hair?"

"Well, it is the latest trend in cute."

"Latest trend? My faith is restored."

Quinn pulled at the deep red sweater that Daria was wearing. "And college is about trying new things."

* * *

Going back to the terminal from short-term parking after dropping her two large bags in Daria's car, Quinn said, "I appreciate you doing this. I got such a good deal on a flight to Boston instead of Baltimore." 

Daria said, "No problem. Sometimes, I think the airlines just use a random number generator to come up with fares."

Michael laughed. "Tell me about it. And don't forget arbitrary stopovers in unlikely places."

He balanced his carryon suitcase on one arm and, opening it, pulled out a small package wrapped in pink. "Merry Christmas, Quinn."

Quinn took the gift. "Uh…this is a surprise."

Michael closed the luggage. "You're part of Daria's family. I also got something for your parents."

Quinn was still slightly confused. "Why?"

"It's Christmas?"

"Oh." Quinn peeled the tape on the wrapping back and slipped the box free.

Michael said, "I'll admit that I pestered my sister for advice on what to get."

"A Mini-Emergency Makeup pack!" Quinn held up a compact unit of cosmetics. "Thank you."

"Good," Michael said with relief. "You like it."

"Yeah, and I can tell you had help. A guy would never figure out something like this." Quinn looked at her watch. "When's your flight?"

"About forty-five minutes."

"You two better go to the gate. Daria, I'll meet you here in about an hour. I want to do a little shopping and give Fran a call. Michael, it's been nice seeing you again."

* * *

Daria and Michael sat in the small eatery near his departure gate. She set her drink down and said, "This place looks familiar." 

"You know, I think you're right." He opened the carryon again and pulled out a longish package wrapped in green and white. "And I think something like this goes with the familiarity."

"At least we're not eating breakfast here this time." Daria removed a red and green gift from the plastic bag she'd been carrying. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

It took Daria several moments to understand the feather inside the box was a quill pen, along with a stand and small ink pot. "This is different…but kind of cool. Thanks."

Michael paused in unwrapping his. "It just seemed like the thing to get, with how much you love writing."

"Just as long as you don't expect me to write stories with it."

"Deal." Michael finished opening his. "An action figure?"

"The first and only Melody Powers action figure."

He laughed. "That's what I get for joking about wanting one. Where…let me guess, someone Jane knows."

"Of course. A guy named Wayne majoring in toy design."

"Tell her thanks, also, but I'm not going to kiss her." Michael proceeded to do just that to Daria.

When their lips parted, Daria said, "I wish we could be together for New Years."

"Me too."

"Maybe next year."

* * *

Quinn shook her head while walking to the parking lot. "You two are such geeks." 

"They're gifts that mean something."

"Yeah, that you're hopelessly in love geeks."

Daria smiled. "I'll accept that."

They reached Daria's black sedan and she unlocked the passenger door for Quinn, who took a seat and twisted to place her shopping bag in the back seat.

After Daria got in and closed the door, Quinn's former composure melted and she blurted out, "Daria, I don't know what I'm going to do!"

"Quinn…what's going on?"

Quinn looked down in embarrassment. "Mom should get my grades in a day or two."

Daria raised Quinn's face. "How bad?"

"A one-point-nine GPA for fall. I'm going to be on academic probation next term."

Daria grimaced briefly. "Ouch. At least it's a big improvement over your mid-term grades."

"I've done all 'A' and 'B' work since then."

"Okay, you're not too deep in the hole. You should be able to get it above two-point-oh next term without too much stress." Daria stared hard into Quinn's eyes. "If you don't get distracted again."

"I promise."

Daria's face softened. "Good." She started the car and backed out. "You will have to weather the initial storm of Mom's reaction."

"I know. This one's going to be bad."

They drove for a while before traffic became almost motionless. Daria drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and told Quinn. "Welcome to our version of Purgatory: The Big Dig. We're going to have to fight this to the other side of the harbor until I can catch the side streets."

"Daria, I've been driving in southern California. I can live with it."

"Touché."

* * *

After much grief and frustration, they emerged from the construction and Daria began navigating on regular roads again. 

Quinn gave her sister a sidelong look. "Okay, that's worse than what I've driven through, and I think you taught me a few new words back there."

"Thank Karen, she's the creative genius when it comes to those expressions. That insanity would drive the Dalai Lama to distraction, and they won't have it done before I graduate."

"Daria, can I talk to you some more, while we're still alone?"

"Um, sure Quinn."

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm really helping Fran."

"What do you mean? Not too many people would stand up for someone like you did for her a couple months ago."

"Um, thanks. But I meant…um…"

After a few moments of silence, Daria said, "You're usually not one at a loss for words."

"Well…I've been out shopping with her a lot, showing her how of buy clothes, what to wear for what, teaching her how to use makeup. All the things I used to do with the Fashion Club."

Daria nodded. "I'm listening."

"But it's never enough." Quinn turned her face from Daria. "The scars always show."

"They always will. But, a few people will see her inner beauty, like you."

"But what if I'm building her hopes up too much?"

"Are you telling her you can hide the scars, or that nobody will notice them at all?"

"Uh….no. I'm trying to get people to notice the rest of her, so they won't pay as much attention to her scars."

"It sounds like you're trying to help in the way you know how. I bet she's enough of a realist about her looks to know that."

"Hmm." Quinn nodded and drifted off into though.

After a fast glance at her, Daria focused her attention on the road. She navigated through the byzantine streets with now practiced ease. Soon they were approaching the apartment.

Quiet, Quinn said, "Sometimes, it still scares me."

Almost as quiet, Daria said, "Because it could happen so easily to any of us?"

"Yeah."

"That's human. I think even I would be scared."

Quinn relaxed some. "I knew you'd know what to say."

* * *

Quinn sat on a sofa in the apartment Daria shared with Jane and Karen, petting a black and white cat. "I can't believe you talked Mom into letting you bring her with. Mom never let us have a pet before." 

"I guess Bump made a good impression on Mom over Thanksgiving." Daria said from the kitchen. "Anyway, I'm glad I don't have to pay to board her while I'm gone."

"Hey kids," Jane Lane called as she came in the front door. She shook some snow from her black hair and set a pile of mail on the table. "Daria, you've got a nice package here."

Daria walked over. "Oh?" She picked up a heavy envelope and grinned. She tore it open and pulled out the December issue of Literature in Action, a pulp action/adventure magazine. As usual, authors and titles were listed along the left side of the cover, about one third of the way down was:

**Melody Powers in:  
Walking in a Winter Wasteland  
By Daria Morgendorffer**

Daria held it up and said, "Looks like Mom's going to buy out the local Books by the Ton tomorrow." 

While Daria was looking through the magazine, Jane set a large, open card on the table, decorated with a construction paper Christmas tree. Quinn asked, "Who's that from?"

Jane smiled proudly. "From my kids."

"Your kids?"

Daria set down the magazine. "At the children's hospital. Jane gets rather maternal with her arts and crafts students."

Quinn folded her arms and smirked at them. "You two are getting soft. Daria's turning into a romantic and Jane into a mother."

Daria said, "I'll show you just how soft these boots have gotten."

"And how much of a mother I can be," Jane added.

Quinn raised her hands. "Okay, okay. I'll back off, since you two are my ride home." She inwardly grinned. _Even if you know it's true._

* * *

After the long drive from Boston, Jane said, "Come on in, I'm sure Trent and Lindy will want to see both of you," as Daria parked in the driveway of Jane's childhood home. 

Quinn opened the back door and got out. "I've missed Lindy, thanks."

"It's been a while, sure." Daria followed the other two women.

Jane stopped and rang the doorbell. "It's so weird doing this here."

A tall, black-haired man in his mid-fifties opened the door. "Jane?"

Jane's eyes opened in surprise. "Dad? Are you really home for the holidays this year?"

"Yeah, I'm between contracts. Who are your friends?"

"Dad, you remember Daria, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah. It's been a while, back when Amanda and I came home early after our hotel in Greenland broke off with the pack ice."

Daria nodded slightly. "Hi."

Jane waved and said, "Quinn's one of Lindy's good friends. Oh, yeah, and Daria's sister. Quinn, this is my dad, Vincent."

He stepped back and opened the door wide. "Come on in."

Lindy rushed up to Quinn and hugged her. "Quinn. It's so good to see you."

Quinn warmly returned the hug. "Lindy, I've missed you, too."

Trent followed Lindy, saying, "Janey," as he picked his sister up and swung her around. "Welcome home."

Jane mussed Trent's hair. "Good to be back. You still treating Lindy like you're supposed to?"

Trent set her back on the ground. "Try to." He stepped past and held Daria. "Hey Daria."

"Trent."

Vincent rubbed his hands together and said, "Jane, why don't we go get your bags?"

Jane held up her suitcase. "Covered."

"Oh."

Lindy started herding everyone toward the kitchen. "I'm going to go get Amanda, be right back. I have a surprise for you."

Vincent shrugged and led the way. Still somewhat dazed by the long drive, Daria followed him into the kitchen. Jane and Quinn followed, after noticing Trent suppress a grin as he held back.

Jane whispered, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I hope you're thinking what I'm thinking, because I don't want to think the other thing I'm thinking," Quinn whispered back.

"Now that I think about it, I don't want to, either."

"Then let's go with what we were thinking about first."

"Um, yeah."

A couple minutes later, Lindy brought Amanda into the kitchen, the latter in clay-stained work clothes and a couple thin smears of clay on her arms and forehead. "Lindy," Amanda asked, "What's going on?"

When she saw who was in the kitchen, Amanda exclaimed, "What a wonderful surprise! Jane, Quinn, Daria, welcome back. Thanks, Lindy."

Lindy grabbed Trent's hand and pulled him over. "Um, Amanda, they're not the only reason I brought you up here."

"Oh, you want to tell us you're getting married?"

Lindy's mouth fell open and Trent half smiled.

Amanda embraced both of them. "A mother knows."

Jane looked at Quinn, "Good, number one."

Daria whispered, "Number one?"

"Better than option number two."

"Um, yeah. I suppose."

After Amanda freed Lindy and Trent, Jane grabbed him. "How're you gonna keep up your criminale reputation now?"

Trent put his arm around Lindy's waist. "The band'll just have to deal with it."

Beaming with joy for her friend, Quinn grabbed Lindy's hand. "Okay, where is it?"

"Just a moment." Lindy pulled a white gold ring with a cluster of small diamonds from her pocket and put it on.

"Wow," Quinn said as she inspected it. "Let me guess, you picked it out."

Lindy shook her head. "Trent surprised me with it."

"Hey," Trent joined in, "I'm sensitive to moods."

Daria waited for Jane to let go of Trent before she moved up and said, "I'm glad you found someone like Lindy. You deserve it."

"Thanks Daria. It means a lot that you're okay with this."

Getting more excited, Lindy squeezed Quinn's hands. "I want you to be my Maid of Honor."

"Lindy! You mean it?"

"Of course."

"Yes!"

Lindy reached for Jane and Daria's hands. "Will you be my bridesmaids?"

Both said, "Me?"

Lindy smiled at them. "Jane, even though you were watching out for your brother, you helped me stop drinking. Daria, you also mean a lot to both of us, please?"

Jane half-nodded and half-shook her head. "Well, okay. But no pink taffeta."

"Then I'm in." Daria added, "But please, find a seamstress who knows her hip from her elbow."

Vincent puffed on his pipe and said, "You know, I think I still have a suit upstairs from Wind's wedding."

Daria asked Jane, "I wonder which one?"

Jane replied, "The first. Wind did the rest in secret."

* * *

Curled on her old bed at her parents' farm in southern Georgia, Karen Myerson grinned as she talked on the phone. "There's no doubt about Jill's condition. Freaky that I'll be an aunt in less than three months." 

Daria reclined on the bed in her old room, using her cell phone. "Just remember that Jane's the one to ask for advice in that department. She's been an aunt since she was five.

"Oh, that's right; her siblings are a lot older than she is. Anyway, you should see my brother Terry. He's reading everything on the internet he can find on being a father. Funny as hell."

"Quinn!" Helen's voice boomed through the house.

Bump scampered up the stairs to Daria's room and hid behind her. "It sounds like Mom found out about Quinn's grades."

"Ouch. You could tell your folks that it could be worse. Terry came home from his first term at Georgia Tech with a one-point-five and a tattoo on his butt."

"I'll see if I can slip that into the conversation. I don't want to know any more about the tattoo, do I?"

"Be my guest; and no, you don't."

"I better get going to see if Quinn's in need of rescue."

"Good luck…Melody."

Daria smiled. 'Thanks. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Daria."

Daria closed the phone and scratched Bump's head. "Better stay up here girl, Mom's ranting can be a lot scarier than Karen's."

Leaving the cat on her bed, Daria headed downstairs. She could hear Jake growling, "Do you realize how many thousands of dollars we spent on you to go there?"

Meekly, Quinn said, "I know. I'm sorry. There was so much going on, and I got carried away. But, I'm doing better."

Helen cut back in. "You better young lady. We were worried to death letting you go out to California like that."

_I feel like I should have a Seventh Cavalry guidon. _Daria stopped and momentarily smiled. _You can tell I'm dating a history major if I even know what one looks like._

Daria cleared her throat. "Mom, Quinn has been serious since mid-terms."

Helen spun. "What?"

Daria held up her cell phone. "We do talk from time to time. She caught herself and has worked hard."

"She should've been working hard from the start," Jake grumbled.

"Dad…how distracted did you get during your first semester of college?"

"What?" Jake abruptly realized he'd been caught. "Oh, um."

"It must've been quite a change going from the regimentation of military school to the freedom of a college campus during the sixties."

Jake stammered, "I…uh…"

Daria moved next to her sister. "Quinn's also been doing a lot to help her roommate." She targeted Helen. "Even organized a school-wide boycott for her."

Helen's eyes went wide. "She…?"

After Daria nudged her with an elbow, Quinn said, "I only wanted Fran to be treated fair. But it was Daria's idea."

Daria shook her head. "I couldn't have pulled it off. Quinn was the motivation behind it."

Helen's eyes leapt between her daughters and moistened. "I'm so proud of you!" She pulled them against her.

Jake looked around the room. "Weren't we just…oh hell. I'm proud of you kids too."

* * *

"I wish Sandi were here," Stacy Rowe said. The brunette sat on the floor next to Quinn's old canopy bed, her full length jeans and buttoned shirt gave her more of a tomboy look than before, while her hair hanging loose instead of in tails a gave a more mature appearance. 

Looking somewhat fuller than she had four months earlier, Tiffany Blum-Deckler sat on the floor next to Stacy. "I can't believe her mom disowned her."

Seated to complete the circle, Quinn nodded. "Or that her dad went along with it. They act like Sandi's the one that did something wrong, when her mom's the one on probation."

Stacy said, "I'm glad we still get to talk on the phone sometimes, but now she has to be careful about her phone bill."

"Yeah," Tiffany agreed. "And she has to cut back on her clothes shopping."

Quinn lightly laughed. "We've all had to do that."

Bump nosed the door of the room open and sniffed at the unusual scents within. Stacy crawled toward her. "When'd you get a cat?"

Quinn turned and noticed. "Oh, that's Daria's."

"It's so cute." Stacy reached out and petted Bump's head. She responded by rubbing her face against Stacy's hand and purring. Stacy pulled her legs under and sat down again, bringing the cat, still purring, into her lap.

Tiffany reached over to pet Bump, who stretched out and purred louder at the attention. "She's so friendly."

Daria softly knocked and poked her head in. "I hope she's not…oh. I see the attention junkie's at it again."

Stacy looked up. "Hi. She's a pretty cat."

"And not at all bashful about it." Daria started to back out of the door. "Anyway, if she's not disturbing you, I'll run along."

"Daria?" Stacy bashfully asked.

She stopped. "Yes?"

"Uh…thanks for standing up for Sandi. During all that court stuff."

"Yeah, thanks," Tiffany said with more animation than usual.

"You're welcome. If Bump causes any trouble, just toss her out. Later."

* * *

"Got you! You furry-tailed rat!" Jake shouted with excitement at the computer monitor. 

Daria smirked as watched over his shoulder. "Have fun."

"Sure thing Kiddo! This is great," Jake barely broke his attention from the computer game to say.

She watched her father eagerly hunt computer-generated squirrels for a minute before leaving her parents' bedroom and quietly saying, "Michael, you may have created a monster with that copy of Small Game Hunting."

From downstairs, she heard Helen talking on the phone. "Amy! You've got to be kidding."

_I'm sure I'll get a full report later. _Daria continued past the stairs and Quinn's room.

Inside, Quinn told one of her mirrors, "Oh, this goes with my new hair so well."

Daria shook her head with a smile and went into her room, where she sat down at the desk and contemplated the blank document on her laptop's work processor. "You can do this," she muttered and began to type.

**Dear Editor, **

**On the enclosed diskette is a short story in the format recommended on your magazine's website for electronic submission. Please consider this story for publication in _Musings Magazine_. **

**Sincerely, **

**Daria Morgendorffer**

"Meow." 

Daria looked down at Bump, looking forlornly up. She patted her leg and said, "Okay, come on up."

The feline jumped up and wandered around in Daria's lap before finding just the right spot. Daria asked her, "Think I should?"

"Meow."

"Okay, you talked me into it."

* * *

"Oh my God, Daria! How did you find this? You hardly know anything about makeup." Quinn pointed at the open browser on Daria's computer. 

Daria shrugged. "A little creative searching."

"Come on. I know makeup and I've never heard of it."

"You have to admit it's a specialty product. You haven't had a practical need to hide scars before."

"Like you have?"

"Well, more like a literary need."

"Literary?"

"What you said about Fran got me thinking. Melody does have a few scars she needs to hide at times. So, I dug around and found that. I can use it in my story, and Fran can use it in real life."

"I don't care if it's a geek reason. I'm ordering some of this right away for her. Daria, if it works, Fran's going to be so happy."

"I emailed the links to your school email, it also has detailed instructions."

* * *

**This Time Get it Right: New Millennium's Eve**  
Performances by: Mystik Spiral, The Lost Puppies, Dane Bramage, and Coddling Moth

"Oooh, headliners. They're movin' up to the big time," Daria said with a good natured smirk after reading the banner over the Zon.

Jane slapped Daria's shoulder. "It still means they suck less than the other bands."

Lindy's voice chimed in behind them. "Which for Mystik Spiral, is still an improvement."

Jane said, "Hey, soon to be sister-in-law."

Daria pointed her thumb at Jane. "Lindy, have you considered the ramifications of being related to her?"

"Hey, compared to my family, the Lanes are a step up in stability."

Jane whistled. "Now that's scary stuff, boys and girls."

"No kidding," Daria agreed.

Lindy grasped their hands and tugged them toward the door. "Inside, it's cold out here."

Daria felt the ring on Lindy's finger and unconsciously rubbed her thumb over the empty third finger of the other hand.

The bouncer waved as they approached. "Hey Lindy. Who are your friends?"

Jane said to Daria, "How soon they forget."

Daria said back, "And how fast our reputations fade."

The bouncer handed Lindy a yellow plastic band as she released Daria and Jane's hands.

Lindy said while she put the band around her wrist, "Trent's little sister Jane and our friend Daria."

He said, "Hi, nice to meet you. ID please for an alcohol band."

Daria held out her hand. "Two no-alcohol, please."

* * *

They found a small table and drank sodas while watching the last of the startup bands. During the break before Mystik Spiral played, Lindy got up and said, "I'm going backstage to see Trent before their set. Be back later." 

A couple minutes later, Mack MacKenzie walked over and sat next to them. "Hi."

Daria asked, "Where's Jodie?"

"At her parents," he sadly said. "We broke up."

"Whoa!" Jane said with stark surprise. "You two'd been together since eighth grade."

Daria stared into her drink. "I'm sorry."

Jane stared at Mack. "What happened?"

Mack gestured to a waitress before explaining. "I'm still working on that. We seemed to get so involved with other things that we forgot each other. Jodie was so excited about the experience she got working for your father, Daria. I think that clinched her plans for what she wants to do with her life, she spent a lot of time working on ideas for starting her own consulting business."

Daria frowned. "Oh."

He went on, "And I started to spend more and more time with my projects for management. So, we didn't make much effort to see each other until we came back here for Thanksgiving."

"I'm sorry we weren't around then." Daria shivered slightly at the memory.

"I heard about what happened and I understand. Makes me wish I'd pounded Upchuck into the ground years ago."

"It's over, I hope."

"Well, things didn't go well then and we ended up fighting."

Jane interrupted. "I know I'm crappy about keeping in contact, but Daria isn't. Daria, did they tell you anything like this?"

Daria shook her head. "No. This is news to me."

The waitress placed Mack's soda in front of him and left. He said, "I'm sorry, but I didn't want to say anything, in case things got better. They didn't. Jodie and I hardly spoke to each other between then and just before Christmas. When we got into Lawndale, we went to Pizza Prince and ate in silence for I bet, thirty minutes. Finally, we looked at each other and said, 'This isn't working.'"

Jane touched his hand. "I…"

Mack cautiously smiled. "Once I get over what I'm feeling now, I'm sure Jodie is going to stay one of my closest friends. We didn't lose that. But, we grew too much apart for more."

"I guess." Daria looked at her hand. "Long-distance relationships don't work."

"Maybe. I don't know. It did for a while. I'm not sure if it was the distance, or us."

Without thinking, Jane wrapped her hand around his. "Look, this is New Year's Eve and midnight is just the other side of the Spiral's set. Think Daria and I can take your mind off things for a little while?"

"You are two of the best friends I have in Lawndale. I appreciate it."

* * *

Daria yawned hard and blinked her eyes after stopping the car in the Lane driveway. "Next time, we're bringing your car and you can chauffeur me around." 

"Deal. It's almost three, I'll let you get home." Jane opened the car door.

"Kind of unsettling about Mack and Jodie. They've been together the whole time I've known them."

"Well, I've know Mack since grade school. But yeah, he and Jodie had been together since not too long after she moved to Lawndale."

"Hmm." Daria thought. "It does make you think."

Jane eyed her friend. "Hey, you okay?"

"Oh. Um, yeah. Just…when I consider some things that might've happened…I appreciate the way things did work out. I think it made us appreciate what we have more."

"All right. Good night."

"Night. See you sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Late afternoon."

"Deal."

Jane closed the car door and watched Daria back away. She crunched through the thin snow to the front door. On hearing a car, she turned, saying, "What'd you…"

Mack slowly opened his car door. "I hope you don't mind."

"No. Do you want to come in?"

* * *

"Jodie, telephone," Michelle Landon called upstairs to her daughter, Jodie. 

"I'll get it here," she called back. Jodie sealed the suitcase she'd been packing and answered the phone in her room. "Hello."

"Hi, it's Daria."

Jodie sat on her bed and prepared for what was coming. "I'm guessing you've seen Mack. Probably last night at the Zon."

"Yeah."

"I probably should've warned you, but I kept hoping things would work out."

"Um, look. I'm not one to talk about giving warning signs before breaking up with someone."

"I figure you understand why I stayed home last night."

"Yeah, awkward is bad."

"I'm hoping he'll stay my friend, like Tom has with you."

"He wants that, too."

"Good. Can we change the subject?"

"Sure. Got any more grand plans in the works?"

"Well, I'm transferring to Crestmore next year for my upper division class work. It's time I upheld my end of the bargain with Dad."

"I see."

"While I have you here, think your father would be interested in me working for him again next summer?"

"I don't see a problem. Why don't you ask him? You don't need me as an intermediary."

"You're right. I'll call him. Any more big plans for you?"

"More of the same, really. School, writing when I get a chance."

"That's nice. Daria, I hope I don't seem rude, but I was almost done packing. Staying in Lawndale has been kind of hard on me."

"No problem. Actually, Jane and I are heading back to Boston today."

"I see. Thanks for calling; it's good to talk with you."

"Jodie. You don't have to answer now, but please think about something."

"What?"

"Is breaking up with Mack what you really want to do?"

"I…"

"Think about it."

"Coming from you, I will."

"Okay. Have a safe trip back to Turner."

"Thanks. Please say, 'Hi,' to Jane for me. Bye."

"I will. Bye."

* * *

Waiting beside the front door with Jake, Helen said, "Sweetie, do you have to go back so soon? It's still New Years Day." 

Daria stopped at the bottom of the stairs, holding her suitcase in one hand and Bump, in her carrier, in the other. "I'm sorry, but I've got to work tomorrow. So does Jane."

Jake sighed. "We miss you, kiddo."

Daria hesitated, put her burdens down and then gave him a hug. "You may find this hard to believe, but I miss you, too."

Helen stood quietly by. Daria switched to give her a hug. "And you."

On the edge of tears, Helen said, "Oh, Daria."

They held each other for a little while before Daria pulled away. "I really need to go, it's going to be late when we get back as it is."

Quinn said, "My turn." She grabbed Daria and whispered, "I love you, Sis."

Daria jerked gently in surprise. She whispered back, "I love you, Quinn."

With some effort, Daria pried Quinn's arms loose. "I've got to go. Good-bye." She grabbed suitcase and cat.

Helen, Jake and Quinn all said, "Good-bye," while Daria went to her car. She waved and drove off.

* * *

Clutching an extra-large travel mug of strong coffee, Jane stumbled out of her house, dragging her luggage behind her. "Couldn't you have held off a little while longer?" 

"Jane, it's four. By the time we get home, it'll be after ten."

"Your point?"

"We have to get up for work in the morning."

"Dammit Morgendorffer. Do you have to be so logical?"

Daria shrugged. "I can't help it. Anybody seeing you off?"

Jane yawned. "I don't think they're awake yet. At least, nobody's left their bedrooms."

"Okay, fine."

Jane dropped her suitcase in the back seat and plopped down in the passenger seat. "Good thing you're driving."

Daria buckled herself in. "With the shape you're in, yeah. Eleven or twelve hours not enough sleep?"

Jane snored.

"I see I'm in for six hours of riveting conversation." Daria started the car and backed into the street. She took the coffee from Jane and drank a sip. "I think I'm going to need this more than she does. What do you think?"

After hearing only silence, she turned to look in the carrier. Bump was also asleep. "Fine. Six hours of talking to myself."

* * *

Going up the stairs to their apartment, Jane said, "That's what you get for drinking all my coffee." 

"You weren't using it. I still have dibs on the bathroom when we get inside."

Karen's voice greeted them as they opened the door. "Welcome home."

Beside her on the sofa, Derek Adler said, "Hey guys."

Daria hurriedly said, "Hi." She set the cat carrier down and opened the door. Bump leapt out and ran for the bathroom, with Daria close behind.

After Daria closed the bathroom door, Jane went over to Karen and motioned a finger over her lips. "You might want to fix the smeared lipstick."

"Oops." Karen pulled a tissue from a box on a small coffee table and dabbed the edge of her lips. "How's that?"

Derek rubbed his thumb along the side of her mouth. "There, that got it."

Jane laughed. "No fair getting help."

"You seem like you had a good time."

"Hey, my brother got engaged. My Dad was actually home for Christmas."

"Trent got engaged?"

"I should hope so; Wind doesn't need to do that again."

Laughing, Karen agreed. "From what you told me of that brother, yeah."

"How was your vacation?"

"Pretty good. Ate too much, harassed my brother, and hung around. The usual."

"That's cool."

* * *

Back in her dorm at Pepperhill University, Quinn made a final touch-up and sat back. "There, that's it. Want to see?" 

Fran nodded her head. "Yes, silly."

Quinn raised an oval hand mirror. Fran's breath caught at the reflected image. The slight downturn of the left side of her mouth was the only immediately visible sign of her injuries. Close inspection would still see the physical unevenness of the scar lines and flattening of her left cheekbone, but otherwise, she looked normal. Tears slowly flowed down her face.

Quinn watched, feeling the satisfaction that comes from making a real difference in someone's life.

"Quinn." Fran sniffed back more tears. "I never though…hell, thank you."

Watching her friend, ideas locked together in Quinn's mind. _I really know what I want to do now._

* * *

Thanks to Isa Yo-Jo at PPMB for information about scar concealing makeup. 

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

July 2005.


	10. Refreize

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.   
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-seventh story in the Falling into College series. 

Richard Lobinske

**Refrieze**

"No…no…no!" Karen Myerson's voice rattled through the apartment. "Dammit! Don't you even think of doing that to me today!" 

Daria Morgendorffer spun her computer chair around. "Karen?" 

Reclining on her bed, Jane Lane stopped sketching and placed the paper pad aside. "You okay?" 

"Arrogant little pile of goat vomit! I told you not to do that!" 

Daria rose and walked to Karen's room, to see the dark blond-haired woman staring at a blue screen on her computer monitor. Daria asked, "What happened? 

Karen's fist pounded on the desk. "It died. Or if it's not dead, it's about to be." 

Jane appeared at Karen's door. "Karen, you agreed, no violence against the machines." 

'What?" Calming down, Karen sighed. "Oh. Yeah, I better take a break." 

"I'll check it over for you," Daria said. "At least as much as I can." 

"Thanks." 

Daria started to reboot the system. "You have current backups, right?" 

"That I do remember. Though everything I wrote this morning wasn't." 

"Hopefully things aren't too bad." 

"That's what I get for getting an early start on a term paper." 

Jane led Karen to the kitchen. "No good deed goes unpunished. Cookie dough?" 

Karen laughed a little. "Forget the sugar. I want salt and fat." 

Jane held her stomach as Karen grabbed a bag from one of the cupboards. Jane said, "You said it's an acquired taste, but I can't see how you can eat those things." 

Munching on a thick, curled light tan colored wedge, Karen mumbled, "Pork rinds are good." 

"So good, you have to import them." 

"Just because the philistines around here don't know good junk food." 

"I'll stick with cookie dough and potato chips," Jane said as she opened the refrigerator and stood up with a tube of dough in her hands. 

"And you call yourself creative." 

Jane pointed the tube. "Hey, them's fightin' words." 

"Speaking of which, you doing that ice sculpture thing again this year?" 

Jane grinned. "You betcha." 

"Should I be worried that you have more room to experiment in this year?" 

"I still have all my notes from last year, don't worry." 

"Gonna need any more bugs?" 

"Not this time." 

"Is living this far from campus going to cause a problem?" 

Jane shrugged one arm. "Not really. The problem is working around my time at the hospital." 

"Oh, yeah. You didn't have a job last year." 

"And I ate enough dorm cafeteria food to prove it." 

"Looks like a hardware problem," Daria said as she came in. "Don't hold me to it, but I think your mother board's gone. Shouldn't have hurt your hard drive though. 

"Crap! I only bought that thing last fall. Looks like I'm out a computer until next payday." 

"I know you won't accept help from my credit card, but do you want to use my laptop until yours is fixed?" 

"You sure?" 

"I trust you, and it's not like I've got anything embarrassing on it." 

"Thanks." 

Speaking around cookie dough, Jane said, "Except maybe the erotic literature she writes after midnight." 

Daria raised one eyebrow and looked at Jane. "Like I would leave those on my laptop?" 

Jane's head spun to face Daria. "What? Like you'd…" 

Daria gave her a wry smile. 

Jane slapped her forehead. "And I stepped right in it. Dammit Morgendorffer, you don't embarrass as easy as you used to."

* * *

Inside MacDonnal Hall on the campus of Boston Fine Arts College, Jane waited outside Professor Danovsky's office. Taped to the door was a one-page sign that said, "Boston Ice Tea Party Signup Inside." 

After a minute or so, the door opened and one of Jane's next door neighbors from the year before came out. Nell Girard raised one of her elbow crutches in greeting. "Hi, Jane. Here to sign up?" 

"You know it. You?" 

"Thought I'd try this year, probably something small." 

Jane was surprised. "I've only seen you as an airbrush jockey, didn't know you sculpted." 

"Not so much lately, but I've got a few unconventional things I want to try." 

"This is going to be interesting." 

"I hope so. I've got to get going, see you later, Jane." 

"See ya, Nell." 

Seated behind her desk, the platinum blond woman inside said, "Jane Lane. I was hoping you'd take another shot at it." 

Jane waved inside. "Hi, Professor Danovsky. Rabid dogs couldn't keep me away." 

"Just don't include any in your entry. I heard you have a pre-vet major as a roommate." 

Jane snapped her fingers. "Darn it. She was so good at providing the bugs last year." 

"So that's where they came from."

* * *

Jane sat cross-legged in front of a black haired seven year-old girl and explained, "You can't blame me for what your dinner tastes like, Becky." 

Becky pouted. "But you're making us put away our paints to go eat it." 

"You got me on that one, but aren't you hungry?" 

"Yeah, but the food here is icky." 

"Sorry, it's the only game in town and you do need to eat to get better. You want to get better, don't you?" 

"Yeah, I want to go home." 

"Don't worry, I'll be back tomorrow." 

"You better." 

"I will, now get going. I'll pick up the rest." 

"Thanks Miss Jane." Becky smiled and left the room. 

Once the girl was out of sight, Jane said, "I don't think I'd want to eat it, either." 

A sweet, Latino voice said, "You wanted to ask me something?" Jane's boss, Mrs. Marquez, was at her office door. 

Jane got up and brushed off her pants. "Yeah. Bel, can I get out about an hour early every day next week?" 

"What've you got up your sleeve?" 

"The Ice Tea party at BFAC is coming up and I've entered again." 

"That's the outdoor sculpture contest using frozen tea, right?" 

"The one and only." 

The administrator rubbed her chin. "Hmm. Tell you what. I know you're going to talk about it and the children will want to see what you do." 

"Yeah, but the BFAC quad during the ass-end of January isn't the best place for sick kids to be." 

"Take photographs of what you do every day and bring them in so the children can see your progress. Make a nice program out of it and you can keep the hours on your timesheet." 

"Thanks, Bel. I appreciate it." 

"Good luck with your entry." 

"I'll appreciate that, too."

* * *

Jane parked her phoenix-decorated black sedan between Daria's matching, unadorned sedan and Karen's blue light truck. "Last one home, at least it isn't my turn for dinner." 

Jane wrestled her overstuffed backpack from the rear seat and marched up the stairs to the apartment. The wonderful smell of fried chicken greeted Jane when she opened the door. "Ahh. Karen's cooking tonight." 

Jane unwound her scarf and hung it on the coat rack near the door, followed by her woolen cap and winter jacket. 

Jane was about to yell that it was her when she noticed Daria sitting in the living room, talking on the telephone. 

"So what if it's been almost two years," Daria said. "I'm giving you the last shot to say 'I told you so.' And don't tell me it's not tempting." 

Daria nodded as she listened. "Now, didn't you enjoy that?...I thought you would…So anything new with you?...Mm-hm…Glad I didn't have to see that…That's good…That's a name you don't hear every day…That's true…I'll tell her that, just make sure you have armor on when she tracks you down…I hope things work out…That's okay, I really understand…Good-bye." 

Jane half-sat on the back of the sofa. "So which one of us is going to be maiming whom? And why?" 

Daria set the phone on the small coffee table and counted points on fingers. "You. Tom Sloane. For saying you're the only girl with an ordinary name he's dated." 

"Considering certain other Lane names out there, I'll stick with ordinary, thank you very much." 

"So Tom will live to see another day?" 

"I'm feeling generous, besides, that means you have a weird name. Speaking of young Thomas, any particular reason for calling him, or him calling you." 

Daria held up a letter. "_Musings Magazine_ accepted one of my stories, and it wasn't about Melody Powers." 

"Another notch on your keyboard." 

"I'm not getting that cocky, I still get four times more rejections." 

"You know, I don't think you've submitted anything to _Musings_ since high school, have you?" 

"No, I hadn't, but I decided it was time to try again." 

"And you figured Tom should know since he encouraged you in the first place?" 

"Something like that." 

"Hi, Jane," Karen said as she entered from the kitchen, balancing a plate of chicken and a bowl of black-eyed peas. "Get signed up?" 

"Yep. Even managed to get my time off from work paid in the process." 

"You suck." Karen set the food down in a fake huff. "How'd you pull that off?" 

"I have to photograph the progress and make a show for my kids." 

"I'm sure that was some vicious arm twisting from your boss." 

"Excruciating." 

Karen walked back to the kitchen and said over her shoulder, "If you two hadn't noticed, it's dinner." 

Jane rubbed her hands together eagerly as she approached the table. "Trust me, I noticed."

* * *

Jane leaned back against one of the storage cabinets while the children in the arts and crafts room were gathered around. "How does that sound?" 

An eight year-old boy in a wheelchair, Anton, asked, "Can we help?" 

Becky gave her an angelic smile. "Please?" 

More children chorused in, "Please?" 

Jane smiled and shook her head. "It's twenty-five degrees out there. The doctors would skin me alive if I took any of you outside." 

"Can we do something inside to help?" Anton pleaded. 

"Please Miss Jane," Becky added. "We want to." 

Jane lowered her eyes. "You kids are merciless, aren't you?" 

Giggles greeted her comment. 

"Though I'll have to think of something, you're in. But I warn you, I'm a brutal taskmaster." 

More giggles. 

Jane playfully clapped her hands. "All right, go get your things out and started on your projects." 

The children dispersed to small storage cabinets to remove their art supplies: paints, pencils, paper, modeling clay, and an assortment of other media. Jane watched them and allowed her mind to wander, to freely touch on any subject, any idea, any image, until her imagination wove elements together for her new creation. She smiled and nodded while keeping an eye on each child. _Okay, it'll bend the rules a bit. So what?_

* * *

"Jane Lane, that is just plain frightening," Jane said to herself, looking at the raw pizza on the counter. "Complete pizza control. I control the toppings, I control how much." 

She put the pan inside the oven and consulted the wrapper from the unwound cardboard tube the pizza dough had come in. Jane set a small timer and walked to the living room. 

Daria was sitting in one of the chairs with her black and white cat purring contentedly in her lap. "What kind of toppings are you exposing us to today?" 

"The leftover Kung Pow chicken from the other night's takeout." 

"And?" 

"Some onion so we can say we had a vegetable." 

"Mmm. Nutrition." 

Jane pulled a chair over and sat next to Daria. "Uh…Can I ask a favor of you?" 

"Under most circumstances, yes," Daria said with a small smile. 

"I, uh, need to get a hold of two gallons of mold-making rubber, fast. The stuff's gonna cost a couple hundred dollars with express shipping." 

"For the contest?" 

"Yeah. I know I don't normally ask, but I changed what I'm going to do and need to get the stuff here by Tuesday." 

"Wow, that's three days after you start. Cutting things close?" 

"Very." 

"Sure. I'm a little flush with money this week." 

"Thanks, you won't regret it." 

"You've made me curious." 

Jane only grinned in reply.

* * *

Jane carefully, but anxiously, explained her plan to Professor Danovsky. "It'll be like any other inclusion or supporting material that's been used. The part to be judged will be entirely my work." 

The sponsor looked at Jane's proposal for a few moments. "I'll allow it." 

"Yes!" 

"You've got a lot of guts trying something like this with only a week from start to finish." 

"I like to think of it as creative insanity." 

"Jane, that is one thing you have in abundance." 

Jane bowed. "Keeping up a fine family tradition." 

"Your father's photography. I'm well aware of it." 

"It's still kind of weird learning how much of a reputation he has outside of Lawndale." 

"You mean he's not recognized there?" 

"Nah. But then, he's not there enough to notice if he was, I think he likes it that way."

* * *

Bundled against the Boston winter in a heavy blue jacket, Jane passed through Young Hall and into the courtyard. Numerous tables were in place and some BFAC students were already setting out a fascinating array of containers to freeze tea in. Jane looked around and found the heavy table marked, "Reserved for Jane Lane." Next to hers was a smaller, but also strongly built, table with a tall stool beside it that was marked, "Nell Girard." Jane noticed the table had a raised lip and several bowls were on the ground below it. 

Going to an open gallery in Young Hall that was next to the courtyard doors, Jane saw Nell near one of the many large coffee urns. Clearly hand-made satchels hung off each hip from straps going over her shoulders. Leaning on one crutch, Nell had shifted the other crutch from her arm while she held a 2 quart thermos under the spout, filling it with hot water. Jane watched as Nell finished, sealed the bottle and placed it into one satchel. 

Nell turned to pick up a second thermos and saw her friend. "Jane, I see we're going to be neighbors again." 

"Just like old times. But at least we don't have to smell your old roommate's beauty products." 

"Thank goodness." 

"Well, I've got some containers to drag in." 

"I'll be around." 

Jane went out to her car and carried a stack of small trash containers to the courtyard. She put them on her table and separated them. Nell was seated on her stool, carefully pouring tea from the thermos bottle onto the table. 

Around the courtyard, other students were filling containers, setting up tools and supplies or otherwise preparing to start their projects. 

"Nell," Jane said, "You're gonna love what this feels like." 

"I remember what you sounded like last year." 

"I might have been mentioned it a few times." 

"Nonstop, you mean. I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

Freezing tea in the trashcans took overnight, even out in the winter cold. Jane arrived early and signed up for a turn using the rolling winch frame to lift the ice blocks onto her table. While waiting, she watched and talked with Nell, who was carving faint ripples onto the frozen table surface. Spaced around the table were several circles cut through the ice, waiting for some addition. 

By mid-morning, Jane had her time with the winch and hoisted her ice blocks onto the table. After considerable grunting and huffing, she freed the frozen tea from the makeshift molds and Jane was ready to begin. 

Nell looked over at the carving tools Jane put on the table and said, "Hey, aren't those the ones your friend Daria gave you for your birthday last year? When everyone got snowed in by that winter storm." 

"Yep. That was a lot of fun." 

Jane and Nell talked and laughed through the day. On Jane's table, the legs of a kneeling figure took shape, while Nell's table became the surface of a pond, the circles filled with an herbal tea that produced a nice green color to form lily pads.

* * *

Monday afternoon, Jane faced the room of children and said, "Just remember, you have to have it done before I get here on Wednesday. Otherwise, have fun." 

Diane, a plump girl who was bald from chemotherapy, raised her hand. "Can we do anything?" 

"Anything." Jane waved her arms wide. "Anything you want." 

"Cool." 

The ten children in the room immediately went to work with the singular focus only a small child intent on a special project can have.

* * *

Getting home late, Jane cried, "Yes!" when she saw the two large boxes on the floor near the table. "It got here." 

Karen called from her room. "That stuff weighs a ton. What is it?" 

Jane went to Karen's door. "Room temperature vulcanizing rubber for making molds." 

Karen finished typing a sentence on Daria's laptop. "You artists get into the weirdest stuff." 

"Daria's door is closed. What's up?" 

"She's in a bad mood." 

"Any particular reason?" 

"Didn't ask. Figure she'll vent some time or another." 

"And you hoped she'd wait until I got home so I might be the target?" 

"That's right." 

"Chicken." 

"Self-preservation." 

"Don't worry, I won't cut anyone's head off," Daria said, opening her door. 

Karen inquired, "Doing better?" 

Daria shook her head. "If by better you mean safer to be around, yes. If you mean by mood, I'm working on it." 

"Give it up Morgendorffer, Karen and I aren't letting you off the hook until you spill." 

Daria sighed and glared at her friends. "Michael had a crappy day at work. When I tried to make light of it, things went downhill." 

"And you two got in a fight," Karen surmised. "Have you made up yet?" 

Another sigh. "Yeah. We have." 

Jane lightly, and playfully, pushed Daria's shoulder. "So what's the problem?" 

Karen added, "Yeah, me and Derek fight occasionally." 

Daria said, "I don't like being normal?" 

Karen and Jane folded their arms and eyed Daria. 

"Look, you two. It bothers me, okay? I don't bounce back immediately. It takes a little while to recover." 

Karen patted Daria on the upper arm. "Now that I believe. By the way, you owe me for making dinner tonight." 

Daria managed a weak smile. "I'll make lasagna tomorrow, will that be sufficient?" 

"Deal." 

Jane wagged a finger at both. "Make sure you leave me some, especially if you invite your pet vacuum cleaners over." 

Karen laughed. "You know Michael will be here, it's in his contract." 

Daria cheered a little more. "I think Derek's pulled the same contract on you." 

"So you know to make enough for everyone." 

"Okay, a double batch, as usual." 

Jane patted Daria's other arm. "I knew we could cheer you up." 

Daria turned to go back to her room. She looked over her shoulder with a soft, sarcastic smile. "I hate you."

* * *

While the children put their supplies away, Jane was already getting her winter gear on. "These look great everybody. We'll start the next step when I get here tomorrow and everything should be ready to go by Friday." 

She saw each one out of the room, some moving on their own, and others with the help of a nurse's assistant. After the room was empty, Jane gathered up the Polaroid photos from the night before and packed them into a small folder that she loaded into a backpack. 

Bel stepped out of her office. "Jane, we might have a problem." 

Jane stopped. "Problem? What kind?" 

"The Public Information office is raising a stink over what you're doing." 

Jane couldn't comprehend. "What are they raising a stink over? The kids are having a ball and the BFAC faculty judges all gave their approval. You'd think they would like the publicity." 

"Jane, you know what some of the…ice projects have looked like over the years." 

"What do you…oh, no." 

"They're afraid you'll do something controversial that'll look bad for the hospital." 

"Don't they understand that I wouldn't do a thing to hurt these kids?" 

"I know. That's why I managed to finagle a meeting between you and the PI office. If you want to be able to keep your time on the clock, you're going to need to sell it to them."

* * *

Jane felt a large portion of her anger and frustration fall away as she pushed the doors open to the courtyard. The same sense of community she felt the year before was there again. Wondrous works grew around the courtyard. One was a comment on the recently decided presidential election showing the two candidates as Tweedledee and Tweedledum. A raven made of very dark tea rested upon a golden bust of Athena. Nearby was a large replica of a Viking-era Jelling rune stone covered in intricate, intertwining and fanciful beasts. 

Jane stopped and felt a jealous grin when she saw Nell seated at her table, airbrush in hand. Jane watched as Nell carefully sprayed a thin layer on portions of the carved lily pads. Nell sat back and saw Jane. "Hey, there." 

Jane closed the distance and looked down. Nell had sprayed a stronger brewed version of the same tea onto the leaves to provide shade and depth. Jane examined the effect for several seconds before saying, "So that's what you meant by unconventional." 

"If I keep the layers thin and be patient, it works like a charm. The rules make no specification on how to apply the tea." 

"Damn, I'm impressed." 

"Thanks. I'm curious about what you're planning as a surprise. A kneeling girl seems rather…plain for you." 

Jane's shoulders sagged. "It's a long story. This one might be really costing me." 

"What happened? If you don't mind." 

"Damn bureaucrats. Hopefully, I can clear things up tomorrow."

* * *

"Good, everyone's still around the table. That means there must be food left," Jane said as she closed the apartment door. 

Various greetings came from Daria, Karen, Michael and Derek, all gathered at the table. 

Jane scooped out the remaining block of lasagna and plopped it onto a plate. She stood near the table, eating and talking. "Daria, I need you to dredge up some old summer activity experience for me." 

Daria looked over the top of her glasses at Jane. "I'm not watching over a roomful of kids." 

"Um, not that summer, the previous one. I need to convince the hospital's PR office my project's a good idea. The butthole there thinks it might look bad if there's a controversial entry at the contest." 

"Oh, that summer job. I think I remember enough from working with Mom's law firm's PR rep to help. 

Karen folded her arms. "You? PR? No way." 

After a grudging nod, Daria said, "Summer between tenth and eleventh grade. It was Mom's idea of a 'constructive summer activity.'" 

Karen looked at Michael. "Did you know about that?" 

The young man pushed his glasses tight against his face. "Yes. We compared summer horror stories last July when she came out to Detroit." 

"Hrrmph." Karen opened her arms and drummed her fingers on the table. She said to Daria, "Keeping your friends in the dark." 

"Like you've told me a lot about all of your summers," Daria replied, and then said, "Jane, other than being grumpy, what are they threatening you with?" Daria asked. 

"Because my kids are involved and the contest is a public event, they have to give approval for it to have official support. If they don't give it, any time I've spent with the kids working on the project will be considered off the clock. I've spent all week working with them on this, so I won't get paid at all." 

"Which means, you'll do it anyway. But didn't you know about this ahead of time?" 

"Bel didn't think there'd be a problem. She gave me the go-ahead and filed the paperwork expecting it to go right through." 

"So somebody's playing a power game." 

"Over my paycheck. I really need the money, if only to pay you back." 

"When's the meeting?" 

"Thursday afternoon." 

"Get me the background on the contest and any of the old controversies. We need to know what they're going to use against you." 

"Thanks. And also thanks for saving me some dinner." 

Karen set her fork down. "Well, we do have to live with you, plus your whining about it would scare the cat."

* * *

Jane pulled rubber gloves on and told the gathered children. "I mean it, don't touch. This stuff is really gooey." 

She poured pale, blue rubber from a mixing bowl into a small plastic food storage box. After, she tapped the side of the box to work out air bubbles. Satisfied, she picked up one of the polymer clay sculptures the children had made and gently pressed it halfway into the rubber. 

"We need to let this cure overnight before we can do the other half. Let's move on to some more." 

The children watched, fascinated, as Jane filled small boxes and set the sculptures into each. After setting the last, she picked up her backpack and removed a folder. 

"I want you to see some of the other works being made." 

Don, a ten-year old covered in burn bandages, said, "C'mon Jane. We don't want to see that stuff. Show us yours." 

Jane carefully admonished him. "Be patient. I'll show you, but I want you to see what we're going up against first." 

The boy sighed dramatically. "If you say so." 

"I do." She started to show the photos. "But we'll get to our project eventually."

* * *

The frozen contents of the small bowls had been placed on each lily pad on Nell's table. Using a cutter on a hand grinder, she was shaping the pale, golden ice into blossoms. Nell shut it down when she noticed Jane come over. "Hey." 

"Cool stuff, Nell." Jane winked, "You should get second place with that." 

Nell winked back. "Or maybe you will." 

"We'll see." 

Jane got her tools from the storage cabinet and went to work on the table the girl in her piece was leaning against. For the moment, her worries drained away.

* * *

Jane looked into her boss's office. "Bel, ready for the meeting?" 

"Ready as I'll ever be. Got all the photos?" 

"Every one. Outside of some political commentary, I can't think of anything they'd be upset about from this year's batch." 

"I hope you're right." 

On their way to the Public Information office, Jane put a hand on Bel's arm. Before she could speak, Bel said, "I know you will. I'm going to try my best to make sure you get paid for it."

* * *

Once Bel and Jane were seated, the thirtyish woman with short black hair leaned forward on her desk. "This hospital considers its reputation to be of vital importance, so I hope you appreciate the reason for our concern." 

Bel said, "Mrs. Jamison, I do understand." 

Mrs. Jamison glared at Bel. "Then how could you approve of subjecting our patients to such outrageous and controversial subjects as come out of BFAC?" 

Old, bad feelings between them were apparent when Bel returned the glare. "It is a well-respected art contest. I believe that the children getting the rare opportunity to participate looks good for the hospital. As I stated in my memo to you when I gave the approval." 

"Mrs. Marquez, in years past, this contest has generated controversy because of some of the entries." 

Jane removed the photos from a folder. "These are the entries this year. Outside of a little political fun, there's nothing controversial here." 

"Miss, I did not ask you." 

Jane's eyes flashed wide. "You're talking about my project and a contest at my college!" 

Bel patted Jane's clenched fist. 

Jane wrestled her anger under control. "I'm sorry. Please understand that this means a lot to me." 

Mrs. Jamison said, "I'll be with you in a moment." and returned her attention to Mrs. Marquez. "Were you not aware of the prior controversies? Like the mating porpoises? The 'Roadkill Café?'" 

"I've lived in Boston almost all my life. I'm aware of what's happened before, but there haven't been any problems lately. Those two were back in the eighties." 

"What about the one with politicians performing certain sex acts with an oil well?" 

"That was back at the start of the Gulf War. There's nothing like that going on now." 

"But there is a history. Okay, Miss…" Mrs. Jamison looked at a form. "…Lane. Now I'll look at those pictures." 

Jane handed them over and the Mrs. Jamison examined each carefully. "These look innocent enough, but are you sure that there aren't any surprises?" 

"We have to do all the ice work inside the courtyard." 

"But somebody could change things at the last minute." 

Jane thought for a minute. "Someone would have a hard time changing one at the last minute and have it look good enough to compete." 

"Suppose they don't want to compete, only make a statement." 

Jane felt a slim smile form. "Believe me, everybody out there is trying to win. Not only is there a thousand bucks on the line, a win at this can be a golden ticket into a major gallery. We're all too hungry to get our art recognized to pull a stunt like that." 

"Very well. Now, I can see you wanting to participate. Why involve the children?" 

"Be…Mrs. Marquez knew I couldn't avoid talking about it. So we thought of having them see what was happening. After a while, I came up with the idea of having them join in. I checked with the faculty sponsors and they said okay. Think of the good news coverage we can get if I place well and can say that the kids had a part." Jane gazed expectantly at the older woman. "Mrs. Jamison, they're having fun being part of a grown-up contest and they're excited about it. The parents are also excited." 

"Parents?" 

Bel removed a stack of paper from a folder. "These are letters from the children's parents, thanking Jane for giving them the chance to participate." 

A momentary scowl appeared on Mrs. Jamison's face before she took the letters and scanned them. She then waved a hand over Jane's photos. "Which one is yours?" 

Jane pointed to it. 

Mrs. Jamison picked the photo up. "I'll go through these. I'll let you know my recommendation to the Vice President and his decision tomorrow." 

Bel's soft tap on her hand convinced Jane not to speak up, allowing Bel to say, "Thank you."

* * *

On the way out to the parking lot, Bel told Jane, "Tell your friend that getting the parents on board was a great idea." 

Jane said, "Oh, Daria will enjoy being reminded that she learned something useful at that PR job." 

Bel pointed her car remote at a silver minivan and released the door locks. "Jane, I'm sorry. I was hoping I was wrong, but I think that you're getting caught in an old feud I have with Mrs. Jamison." 

"I'd wondered at the looks you two gave each other." 

"I thought she was over it." Bel opened the van door. "Jane, I promise, if she goes against us, I'll do everything I can to make sure you still get paid." 

"Bel, if we get good press, I just want a picture of her red face." 

"I can't promise that." 

"That's okay. See ya tomorrow." 

"Goodnight, Jane."

* * *

Trying to keep the paper bag full of Chinese takeout from slipping out of her grasp, Jane pushed the apartment door open and yelled, "I could use a hand here, unless you want to eat off the floor!" 

Karen's muffled voice said, "Daria, can you help her? I'm under the desk trying to figure where to stick these computer cables." She quickly added, "And I don't need any suggestions." 

Daria rushed over and grabbed the food before its final plunge. "Got it." 

"Great," Jane said with relief. 

Daria headed to the table. "How was the meeting?" 

"It went." Jane followed, saying, "You were right about power games, the woman has an old beef with my boss." 

"Do you get paid?" 

"I'll find out tomorrow." 

"That bites." 

"Hey, it looks like the parents' thing hit like a ton of bricks." 

Daria began separating the contents of the bag. "You have to admit, when my Mom called or wrote in…" 

Jane joined Daria in sorting. "…she got results. I think you learned that lesson." 

"It is also good PR practice." Daria turned her head and called. "Karen, you going to eat?" 

The muffled voice replied, "Yeah. I think…ah, that's where the little bugger goes. Almost done, be out in a couple minutes." 

Jane opened her meal boxes and sat down. "She must've got her computer back." 

"Yeah, I'm kind of jealous. My old desktop is a bit of a dinosaur now." 

"Do I see a little techno-lust, _a la _Jake?" 

"Maybe just a few upgrades."

* * *

Pulling slowly and steadily, Jane opened the rubber mold halves and removed the last sculpture. After returning the original to Becky, Jane placed the mold in a cardboard box. "Looks like we're ready." 

The girl said, "Don't forget to take pictures." 

Laughing, Jane told her, "I won't." 

Bel and a floor nurse walked over to the gathering. Bel said, "Miss Jane and I have to take care of something, Nurse Wilkes will be in charge while we're gone." 

Jane stood up. "Now don't give her a hard time. We'll be back soon." 

Going down the corridor, Jane said, "Let me guess; Mrs. Jamison likes to be a drama queen. Couldn't she just call with the answer?" 

"She likes to be the boss of her little world." 

"If you don't mind, what happened between you two?" 

"Short version: The VP tends to rubber stamp PR's recommendations, so a couple years ago, I did an end-run around her about something and the hospital ended up with egg on its face. I was reprimanded, I apologized, and made sure I've gone through channels ever since, but it looks like she's still holding a grudge." 

"I hope she's over it now." 

They stopped before Mrs. Jamison's office door and Jane wiped the sweat from her palms. "Here goes nothing."

* * *

Jane pushed the door to the courtyard open with a boot and slipped through with the box full of finished molds. She rushed across to her station, put the box on her table and looked around at the other contestants finishing their projects. 

Nell looked up from airbrushing a spot on a frog resting on one of the lily pads. "Well, are you in the money?" 

Jane smiled widely. "If it wasn't so icy, I'd be dancing like a frog." 

"Great. Now what's in the box? Your surprise?" 

"Oh, yes. One from each of my kids."

* * *

Well after nightfall, Nell finished up her tabletop pond and watched Jane carefully file away the mold lines and sprues from the small castings. Made with very weak tea, each of the children's sculptures had been reproduced as icy, crystalline figures. 

Rising above Jane was the form of a smiling girl kneeling with her arms resting on a fanciful, round display stand. With care, she climbed onto the support table. Jane put a small puddle of tea on the stand top and then placed a figurine on it, allowing the sub-freezing temperatures to turn the water into an adhesive. When everything was in place, Jane slipped off and stepped back. 

Jane's smiling girl was looking at a menagerie of glittering figurines on the display table. 

Nell tapped her on the shoulder. "Jane, that has class." 

"So does yours. I never would've though of airbrushing accents." 

Nell tapped the box full of neatly packed molds. "Why do I think you're not done with those yet?" 

"I got my boss to buy some clear casting resin. I'm making a full set for each of my kids and one for me."

* * *

Jane's old roommate, CC, joined her and Nell waiting by their projects while the judges made their rounds. CC was dressed comfortably for the cold, while Jane and Nell were wearing some of their best. Jane's boots were polished and her heavy red jacket had been dry cleaned. Nell used her second set of crutches. The chrome was polished and fresh, white rubber tips were on the bottom of each. 

The grey, overcast sky threatened snow through the morning while the three chatted. CC finished one of her dorm Resident Assistant stories, "So the girl comes back down to my room dragging the wet sweater and wanting to know how to get the bits of toilet paper out of it." 

A deep voice behind them said, "Hi, Jane." 

Jane spun around. "Mack?" 

Michael MacKenzie smiled with satisfaction at Jane's surprise. "Well, most people at school call me Mike now, but I'll let you get away with" 

Nell slowly looked him over. "Jane, you've been holding out on us." 

"No kidding," CC added. "He's cute." 

Jane stammered, "W-what are you doing here?" 

"Thought I'd take a look at your work for myself." 

CC offered him her hand. "Jane's showing her usual social graces. I'm CC." 

Mack shook her hand. "Nice to meet you." 

"You got a brother?" 

Nell leaned on one crutch, slipped the other free of her hand and offered it. "Or two? Hi, I'm Nell." 

Mack laughed and gently shook her hand. "Sorry, only a big sister." 

Jane continued her surprise. "You drove all the way here for this?" 

"And to see you." 

CC pushed Jane in jest. "You have been holding out on us." 

Mack said in Jane's defense. "We haven't been on any real dates…well, since that one in seventh grade." 

Nell chuckled. "Now that was a loaded comment. So you've had an unreal date?" 

From near the courtyard doors, Daria said, "Mack?" 

He waved over at Daria, Michael, Karen and Derek. "Hi." 

The four of them joined the rest. Michael nodded and said, "Good to meet you again." 

Daria said, "Mack, this is my other roommate, Karen, and her boyfriend, Derek. You two, this is Mack MacKenzie, a friend of mine and Jane's from Lawndale. 

"Hi, Karen. Daria and Jane have said a lot about you." 

"Hi, Mack. Was it anything good?" 

"Mostly." 

"They lied." 

Derek laughed and shook Mack's hand. "Hey. Now you see why those three get along so well." 

Mack held up his hands to everyone. "Okay, hold on a minute." He grabbed Jane in a hug and they held for a moment. "There, that's better." 

Daria crossed her arms and smiled. "Ooookay. There's a story behind that." 

Jane did something Daria had rarely seen, she blushed. "Um, Daria. There was a reason I was so tired on the way back after New Years." 

Mack kept one arm around Jane when he said, "I stopped by to see Jane after we left the Zon and left around eight in the morning." 

Daria winced and looked at the ground. "Um, has…" 

Mack interrupted her. "Jodie and I talked again a couple days later. Thanks for trying; I always knew you were a closet romantic." 

"So you and Jodie are sure?" 

"We're sure. When I look back on it, it wasn't the separation; it was that we were going different ways. It would've happened if we'd both gone to Lawndale State." 

"I understand." Daria looked at him. "You and Jodie were kind of an inspiration. Gave me hope that someday…" She held up her hand, clasped with Michael's. 

"If it gave you hope long enough to find him, then I'm glad." 

Jane hurriedly said, "Shh. They're announcing the winners."

* * *

"Nada for both of us. Oh well, better luck next year?" Nell told Jane. 

Jane looked at the figurines and at Mack. "Can't really complain about my luck this year." 

Two men weaved through the crowd, one holding a microphone and the other a video camera with the logo of a local television station on the side. The one with the microphone asked, "Ms. Lane?" 

Jane laughed. "Can't complain at all."

* * *

Thanks to Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading 

July 2005 


	11. Lane Closure

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.   
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-eighth story in the Falling into College series. 

Richard Lobinske 

**Lane Closure**

Lindy Weaver sat on the sofa and balanced a telephone on her shoulder as she looked at a large catalog held in her lap. "Oh my God, Mom. You've got to be kidding…Thirty-seven-B?…Yeah, I'm looking at it…There is no way…Why don't we keep looking? I know you've got at least a dozen other catalogs to go through…Good…Okay, yeah, I've got it, gimme a sec." 

The blonde girl pulled a second book into her lap and flipped through it until she found her destination. "Okay, I found the page…Item nine-twenty-six…The set looks nice, but I'm planning on only three attendants…Same with Trent…Yes Mom, they're all in the band…Because they're his closest friends…They claim that they all got in tuxedos for Nick's wedding…No, I haven't seen the pictures; Nick burned them when he got divorced…" 

Lindy moved the phone away from her ear for a few seconds to let her mother's rant pass. When it had, she said, "Forget about the guys for now; we're working on my Maid of Honor and bridesmaids…Please don't start that again…Because Quinn isn't going to be here much to help, she volunteered to find the dresses…She has a great eye for clothes…" 

Hearing something, Lindy pulled the curtain aside and looked through the window. "Mom, the mail's here. I'll talk to you later…Okay, bye." 

She broke the connection and sighed with relief. "Saved." She looked upward. "I know I'm doing a good thing by keeping her involved, but…why am I regretting it so much? Oh, well. Maybe there's some interesting junk mail today."

* * *

"Aw, crap!" Lindy yelled when she pulled a large mortgage company envelope from the mail stack. "What the hell happened? They said that they were okay with photocopies of the payment coupons and I know I didn't miss any payments for Amanda. Hell, I've doubled or tripled most of them." She opened the envelope and found a letter. 

**Mr. Vincent and Mrs. Amanda Lane, **

Congratulations on fulfilling your payment obligations for account number 73-443. Enclosed please find a Satisfaction of Lien statement, clear deed, and all other relevant documents for ownership of real property at 111 Howard Drive, Lawndale, MD. 

Thank you very much for your business and we hope you will remember us in the future.

Lindy jumped with excitement and ran down to the pottery bunker. "Amanda! Amanda!" 

Lindy's future mother-in-law continued concentrating on a delicately formed pot on her wheel. "Just a moment." Once she got exactly the shape she was after, Amanda looked up. "Hi, Lindy." 

Lindy waved the papers in front of her. "Your mortgage is paid off! This place is yours, free and clear." 

"Oh, that's nice." 

"It's great!" 

Amanda cocked her head and looked thoughtful for second. "Isn't this early? I seem to remember the nice man at the bank saying two-thousand, three." 

"I hope you don't mind, but I've been paying extra for you." 

"That's okay, dear." With one of her soft smiles, Amanda looked around the converted fallout shelter. "It's hard to believe I've been here for almost thirty-five years." 

"Thirty-five? Oh, you must've been renting this place before you bought it." 

Amanda giggled. "Oh, none of us paid rent; we just pitched in to help when needed." 

"You mean, like an old commune?" 

"Oh yeah, the Free Lawndale Commune. That's what we called it." 

Lindy also smiled and looked around. "Explains a few things." 

"That's when we first moved my pottery down here." 

"Makes sense. I figure a bunch of hippies wouldn't put in a fallout shelter. Must've been here from the fifties." 

"Winston's father put it in," Amanda said as she washed clay from her hands in the small sink. 

"Winston?" 

"He was kinda the leader of Free Lawndale." 

"Ah." 

Amanda finished drying her hands and headed out with Lindy following. 

When they went into the kitchen, Lindy asked, "If you don't mind, how did you end up in a commune?" 

"I was looking for a kiln." 

_Dressed in loose slacks and a nice blouse, eighteen-year old Amanda crossed her arms in anger and frustration as she glared at her father. "I'm wearing pants because they're comfortable. I don't have to wear a skirt." _

Still in his Building Maintenance uniform, Pete Lodzyck glared equally hard at his daughter. "Pants are not appropriate attire for a young lady to wear in the State Department offices." 

"Daddy, I told you. I'm not taking that secretary job. I don't like what they're doing in Vietnam and I won't work to support it." 

"Young lady, now that you're out of high school, you need to learn a little responsibility. I pulled a lot of strings to get you that job!" 

"And you didn't bother to ask if I wanted it." 

"Darling." A medium-build woman with brown hair, Renee Lodzyck said, "A secretary is a fine way to meet nice young men. Once you marry one, you can stay home and make pottery as much as you want." 

"So, is that what you want to do?" Pete leaned forward. "Make pottery?" 

Forcing herself not to back away, Amanda replied, "As a matter of fact, yes." 

Pete shot back, "Do you really think you can make a living at that?" 

"I want to at least try." 

"Then you better get to work." Pete started to walk away and said over his shoulder, "If you're not taking the job I got you, I'm expecting rent the first of July."

* * *

Amanda stretched out on her bed and stared at the hand-painted posters on the wall. She focused on one she'd made at the start of her junior year after seeing the Beatles perform on television. "Well, John, got any suggestions?" 

After several moments of silence, she said, "I didn't think so, but at least you make a good listener." 

"I have a good foot treadle-powered throwing wheel and know where to buy clay and glazes. I can start making things here and sell them locally. One problem: I need a kiln." She went to the window and looked out into the suburban Maryland sky. "Forget new, I hope I can find a good used one. Hey, maybe there are some ads in the art magazines." 

She pushed a lock of amber-blond hair away and started looking through magazines and a couple of underground newspapers. "Hopefully what I've got in savings will cover it." 

Over an hour later, she said, "Lawndale? Where the hell is Lawndale?"

* * *

"I made some tea for us while we wait for Vincent to get done developing his latest pictures," Lindy said as she placed a mug for each of them on the kitchen table. "You show up looking for a kiln, and end up spending your life here. Talk about a little thing that makes a difference in your life." 

Amanda spooned honey from a jar into her mug. "Sometimes, things happen just when we need them." 

"Yeah, they do." Lindy thought of how she met Trent as she sipped her tea. "They really do." 

Amanda watched the younger woman and tasted hers. "I rode a train here and hoped I could ship it home. Ended up not needing to." 

"So the kiln was here? In the house?" 

"Oh, no. The college was selling it." 

_Amanda followed the small map the lady at the main office had drawn. She knocked on the door of the art studio and slowly opened it. Beyond, a bearded man with long hair was talking with a middle-aged woman. She looked up and waved Amanda over. _

Amanda pulled the clipped newspaper ad from her pocket and held it out. "Hi. I'm hoping to buy the kiln you have for sale." 

The lady shook her head. "I'm sorry; I just sold it to this man." 

Amanda's shoulders followed her heart in sinking. "Please, do you have any more for sale?" 

"No, we don't." 

The bearded man said, "Hey, know how to use one?" 

Amanda nodded. "Yes." 

"Groovy. Could you show us?" 

"Who are 'us?'" 

"Free Lawndale. Oh, yeah. Hey, I'm Winston, most call me Bear. We're trying to live a natural and free life." 

"What do you need a kiln for?" 

"Makin' our own cups and plates and stuff, so we don't have to buy 'em." 

Amanda thought, maybe I can sell them some lessons. and said," Tell you what, buy me some lunch and I'll show you how it works." 

"I'm good with that."

* * *

When he walked into the room, Lindy waved Vincent over and gave him the letter. "The house is paid off." 

"Really? After all this time," Vincent said as he sat down. 

After drinking some more tea, Amanda patted his hand. "I was just telling Lindy about when I moved here." 

Vincent looked at Lindy. "Did she tell you that the kiln down there is the very one she came here to buy?" 

Lindy was surprised. "You're kidding." 

Vincent shrugged. "Well, we've replaced the heating elements once, the thermostat three times, and rewired it twice. But otherwise, it's the same one. Amanda's attached to it as much as she was the day I met her." 

_At twenty-one, Vincent Lane had seen a lot in the three years since he'd become a stringer photographer for several newspapers. With curious amusement, he studied the large wood-framed house near the end of the street. The front yard was roughly cut and the back was planted with vegetables. Several older vehicles were parked on or around the driveway. A small sign out front said, "Free Lawndale Community. All welcome." _

Vincent went to the door and knocked. A young woman in a blouse and skirt featuring an exotic print fabric opened it. "Hi." 

"Good morning. I'm Vincent Lane, with Mid-Atlantic News. I'm here to take some photos of your community." 

"Sounds cool. Hey, I'm Rose." The woman turned and yelled "Hey Bear! The picture guy's here!" 

While waiting, Vincent could see the living room of the house featured a lot of hand-made decorations. The furniture was used and mismatched, but the posters and wall hangings were colorful and imaginative. A term that could also describe several of the individuals moving through the house. 

After a tour of the house and garden, Bear directed Vincent to a door set in the ground of the back yard. "It's taking time, but we are becoming more and more self-sufficient. Down here is one of our newest residents." 

They went down the steep stairs to a small underground room. The shelves designed to hold canned food were filled with a wild assortment of ceramic creations. In the center of the room, Amanda, clad in shorts and an undersized shirt, sat on a stool shaping something on her pottery wheel. Vincent stopped and raised his camera to record the graceful vision before him. 

"Need to wait until she stops, man. When she's makin' something, the rest of the world don't exist," Winston explained as Vincent continued to take photos. 

Amanda completed turning up the lip of the plate on the wheel and looked up. "Hey Winston, who's our guest?" 

"Vincent, he's a newspaper photographer." 

"How do you like our place?" 

Vincent clicked the camera shutter to capture her warm smile. "I'm starting to like it a lot."

* * *

Standing in front of his closet, Vincent opened the old portfolio and removed a stack of matted photographs. "Here they are." 

Lindy took the photos and sat down on the bed in Amanda and Vincent's room to look at them. The black and white images of a teenaged Amanda at her old potter's wheel seemed to capture the spirit of the early counterculture movement. Lindy felt like she was touching history instead of looking at it. 

She whispered, "These are wonderful." 

"I was such a skinny girl back then." Amanda leaned over Lindy's shoulder. "Kind of like Jane." 

Lindy slowly went through the photos, some of them showing Amanda in different stages of pregnancy. Near the bottom, she found one of an infant and penciled on the matt was, "Summer Love Lane. August 22. 1967." 

Lindy looked at the two. "The Summer of Love. I'd wondered how she got her name." She looked down at the date. "Wait a minute…that's your wedding anniversary." 

Vincent said, "Well, we thought it might smooth things over with our parents if we were married before Summer was born."

* * *

_Vincent started the timer and quickly moved to sit with Amanda, two-year old Summer, one-year old Wind and tiny infant Penny. _

After the camera flash, Amanda said, "Thanks. Mom and Dad like to see pictures of the kids." 

"At least they came around. They do love our kids, even if they're still a little wary of me." 

For a moment, Vincent briefly let his frustration at his own family's coldness get to him. _We're the black sheep of the Lane family. As if my drunken brother Max or my stuck-up sister Bernice have done any better._

"Can you help me up? I'm feeling tired," Amanda softly asked. 

"Sure." Vincent knelt, took Penny in one arm and put the other around Amanda's waist. 

"Hey, I'll watch Summer and Wind. Stay with your old lady," Rose said from the doorway of the room. When Vincent nodded in thanks, she picked up Wind and took Summer's hand. "Come on, let's go help Maggie grind flour." 

Vincent carefully helped Amanda to the small bed in their room. "Easy, you only got out of the hospital a week ago." 

"I didn't like that place." She stroked Penny's cheek. "Hey Early Bird, want to stay with Daddy for a little while?" 

Penny murmured and held onto Vincent's shirt. He kissed Amanda and said, "I'll take care of her; get some rest." 

She pulled the sheet over her legs and curled up. "Night." 

"Sweet dreams." 

As Amanda's eyes closed, Vincent shuddered at the memory of those horrible minutes in the ambulance when he almost lost her. He carefully cradled his daughter. "Come on, let Mommy get some sleep."

* * *

"Whoa, I wondered where everyone was," Trent said as he walked in. "What's up?" 

Lindy held up a group of pictures. "Looking at some old photos. You guys were so lucky, having a real photographer in the family." 

Trent shuffled his feet and Vincent looked to a corner of the room. Confused, Lindy's eyes shifted from one to the other. "What?" 

Trent put his hands in his pockets. "Have you seen many of me or Janey?" 

Lindy stopped and looked at him. "No, not really." 

Vincent sighed and leaned against the window frame. "We had some good years with Free Lawndale. But, eventually, a lot of people drifted away, until only a few of us were left."

* * *

_On the television, Amanda, Vincent, Winston and Rose watched the line of gaunt men in loose clothes exit the military transport plane. The first one saluted and said, "We are honored to have the opportunity to serve our country under difficult circumstances…God bless America." _

Winston released a weary sigh. "It's really over and they're coming home." 

Rose wrapped her arms around her knees. "Speaking of over…I'm sorry Bear. It's been a great trip, but I'm headin' out." 

Winston slowly rubbed his face. "I guess you got a jump on the rest of us, Rose." He looked around wishfully. "We can't keep the place going like this. My Dad willed me the house to raise a family in. I didn't raise anyone, but I've been a part of a great family. But now, I'm gonna have to sell the house. I'm figuring everyone will need to move out in a month or two." 

Amanda twisted around. "I don't want to go anywhere. I'm happy here." 

"I'm sorry Amanda, but I don't have a choice. I've used up the last of our money, we haven't had enough people to properly tend the garden in a year. Hell, the only thing that's kept us afloat has been your ceramics and Vin's photography." 

"But I where would I put my kiln?" 

"Winston." Vincent kneaded his hands together. "Would you consider selling the place to Amanda and me?"

* * *

The loan officer carefully pointed to each number on the paper as he talked. "Here's the loan amount of fifteen thousand dollars, your interest rate of seven percent, loan period of thirty years - meaning the contract will be fulfilled in April twenty-oh-three, and your monthly payment will be ninety-nine dollars and eighty cents." He shifted his eyes to Amanda and Vincent. "Any questions?" 

Feeling uncomfortable in the suit he hadn't worn since moving in with Amanda, Vincent fidgeted in his chair, but said, "No." 

The banker thrust a pen into Vincent's hand and placed a stack of printed paper in front of him. "I'll just need your signatures on a few forms. We can start here and here."

* * *

Vincent slumped to the floor and worked to catch his breath after getting their bed into the master bedroom from the room they'd used upstairs. When he was ready to get back on his feet, Amanda came in, followed by their children. 

She said, "The children are so happy to have rooms of their own." 

Summer hugged his legs tightly. "Thanks Mommy, Daddy! I've got a room like a big girl." 

Wind pushed on his older sister. "Yeah, now I don't have to share with icky sisters." 

Penny pushed Wind. "No, you're icky." 

Amanda looked down. "Children." 

Vincent told them, "Go up and start thinking about what you want in your rooms." 

The three youngsters shouted with excitement and rushed upstairs. 

Vincent embraced Amanda. "Having a place for a darkroom and a guest room will be great." 

"And my kiln is safe." She warmly kissed him. "Thanks. I know I'll always have a home." 

He held her closer and closed his eyes. _I hope so. I lied through my teeth about how much we earned_.

* * *

The man behind the desk set the portfolio down and took his reading glasses off, placing them into a shirt pocket. "Impressive work, Mr. Lane." 

Once again in his old suit, Vincent slowly released his held breath. "So, you think it's up to your magazine's standards?" 

"Close enough for me to offer you a trial assignment. If it passes muster, American Geographic will take you on as a regular." 

"That's great." So is what they pay. 

"I hope you don't mind travel." 

"I got used to it when I was a stringer photographer." 

"Good, because you're heading to Nome, Alaska."

* * *

Lindy and Trent sat together in bed, propped up on pillows. Lindy curled comfortably under Trent's arm and adjusted the blanket over them. "Didn't you ever feel a little weird sleeping in your parent's old room?" 

"Hadn't thought about it." 

She playfully turned and kissed his cheek. "You wouldn't." 

"I've always known it as my room." He kissed her forehead. "Now it's our room." 

"Trent…have you thought about finding a place of our own?" 

"This is our place." 

"No, I mean find a house for us." 

"Hmm. But who would stay here?" 

"Your Mom and Dad?" 

"Um, yeah. But who would stay here?" 

"Oh, never mind." 

"Okay." Trent brought his other arm around her. "But, a little more room would be nice.'

* * *

Vincent slowly went up the stairs and down the hall to Summer's room. The door hinge emitted a small squeak when he pushed it open and looked inside. His 'big girl' was grown up and had started a family of her own. 

_"Dad, I'll be fine. Yeah, I know my ex was a big mistake, but now that I've got the court order to garnish his wages for child support, I found a place of my own again," Summer told her father while she packed a suitcase. _

"I know, but your room will always be here for you." 

"Yeah, yeah, Mom and her butterflies." 

"Hey, does this mean I don't have to keep getting shanghaied into baby sitting?" Thirteen-year old Jane quipped from the hallway. 

"Yeah, you're off the hook for now." Summer closed the suitcase and looked up with a smirk. "At least until you have kids of your own." 

"As if. Anyway, I'm off to the park. See ya later." Jane waved and jogged down the stairs.

"There are times I still don't believe I'm a grandfather." Vincent sighed and closed the door. He went to the room across the hall and entered. He ran his finger along the relationship self-help books that filled the small bookcase. 

_Vincent adjusted Wind's tie and tuxedo collar before stepping back. "There." _

"Thanks, Dad." Wind beamed and hugged his father. "I'm so excited. Claudia is perfect! We'll be together forever." 

When Wind released Vincent, Amanda stepped in to embrace her son. "Wind. You look so happy." 

"I am. Though also a little sad. I'll miss this room." 

Amanda said, "You're always welcome." 

"I'll remember that. But we're off to California after the honeymoon. Don't know if we'll have a chance to come back any time soon."

Vincent shook his head, stepped out of the room and down to the next door. The mixed Latino motif of Penny's room brought a smile to his face. "You were always the dreamer out to save some part of the world." 

_Penny put her arms through the backpack straps and pulled it up onto her shoulders. "Mom, Dad, face it. Your generation tried and failed. Now it's up to mine to try and make a difference." _

Vincent puffed on his pipe and said, "If you insist on going down there, remember this one piece of advice: always keep enough local cash for a good bribe in a safe place. You'll never know when you'll need it." 

"Dad, that is so euromale-centric." 

Amanda hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Have a nice trip. We'll keep your room ready for you." 

"Like I'm coming back here any time soon?" 

"Well, you never know," Amanda admonished. 

"Yeah, I'll think about it. But there's a big future in teaching hemp fiber cloth production. I've got a vision. Give the oppressed survivors of Old World colonialism the means to economic independence from our vacuous merchandise. So, I better get going, my bus leaves in half an hour."

Past Penny's room, Vincent saw the sliver of light under Trent and Lindy's door. He stopped before it. "Trent, you look the most like me, but have more of your mother in you than all the others." 

Vincent lowered his head. "Including her loyalty. We doted on the others and almost abandoned you and Jane. You two always seemed to be able to handle things on your own. So while we traveled, you stayed here for Jane and now you're staying here for us so we have a home to return to. We owe you." 

Vincent turned and opened the final door across the hall. Unlike the others, Jane's room seemed deserted. The walls were unadorned except for the myriad of small paint splashes that had accumulated over the years. The old chair was still there, but the bed was stripped, the closet emptied and the shelves bare. He walked to a window, pulled the drape over and tapped the plywood in place of the glass. "I never did take these out and replace them when we converted my darkroom into Jane's room. She never complained, so I never remembered." 

Walking back to the bed, he sat down and felt the old mattress sag. "I wasn't here when she left. I don't even remember where I was then." He bitterly laughed. "And that was after she had to remind me that she'd graduated months earlier." 

He noticed a T-shaped wear spot on the carpet, with a U-shaped wear facing it. "That's where she kept her easel." 

The sight of the empty space slowly pulled up a realization in Vincent's mind. "She'll visit, but Jane won't be moving back. Why should she? We taught her to live on her own." 

Vincent made his way through the darkened house and lay down on the bed next to his wife. "Amanda, there's something I think we need to do."

* * *

"Yo. Lane, Myerson and Morgendorffer. Paintings, pets and prose," Jane Lane answered the telephone in her South Boston apartment. 

"Hey, this is Lindy. How are you?" 

"Been freezing my skinny ass off, but otherwise doing pretty good. You keeping my brother out of trouble?" 

"Only when he's asleep." 

Jane laughed and said, "So, what's up?" 

I wanted to run something by you. Please tell me exactly what you think." 

"Um, sure." 

"I mean it." 

A little apprehensive, Jane said, "Um, okay." 

"We got a notice from the mortgage company that the house was paid off." 

"It's paid off? Wow! There were times I wondered if the place would be foreclosed. Ask Trent about the time right after Daria moved to town that we had to barricade the house against some foreclosure servers until I could forge Mom's signature on a check." Jane laughed and said, "If I haven't said it before, I'll say it now. Thanks for helping keep an eye on things since you moved in." 

"Hey, my pleasure. Besides, making double house payments here was still cheaper than what I was paying for rent as a student." 

Jane groaned. "Tell me about it." 

Lindy chuckled. 

"So the house is truly Mom and Dad's. Wow." 

"Yeah. Um…Jane. That leads to the part I want you to be honest about." 

"Go ahead." 

"Your folks promised to let Trent and me buy the house as a wedding present. They'll stay here, but the house will be ours. They'll be cutting us a pretty good deal." 

"Neat." 

"You're okay with it?" 

Surprised, Jane said, "Yeah. That place is too much a part of Trent. Taking it away would be like taking away his music. I was hoping something like this would happen." 

"I'm glad you understand." 

"Eh, he's my brother. I think I know a few things about him. Just leave me some holiday crash space until I graduate." Jane laughed. "Boy, with a wad of cash like that, who knows where Mom and Dad will go." 

"That brings up the second part. This one I know you'll like." 

"Hell, I liked the first. Go ahead and shoot." 

"Amanda and Vincent are putting the money in a trust fund for you. So you can finish college." 

Stunned, Jane stammered, "What?" 

"It'll cover all of your tuition and school costs, plus some extra." 

Lightheaded, Jane sat down. "I…why?" 

"The only thing your Dad said was, 'I hope it makes up for all the photos I didn't take.'"

* * *

The news broadcast quoted Capt. Jeremiah A. Denton, USN, on his return to the US following North Vietnam's release of American POWs. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

August 2005   



	12. And The Bubble Burst

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005. 

This is the Thirty-ninth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske 

**And the Bubble Burst**

Outside the door to her apartment, Karen Myerson stamped gray, slushy snow from her boots while she scanned through the mail in her hands. "Hmm. That looks interesting."

She stepped inside and quickly closed the door before peeling her coat off. She hung it on the rack near the door and, raising her voice, said, "Mail call!"

Her roommate, Daria Morgendorffer, shuffled out of her bedroom. "Hey, anything interesting?"

Karen shuffled three envelopes onto the table. "Two 'once in a lifetime' credit card offers, and a letter from _Fantastic Science Fiction_ magazine."

Daria picked up the latter. "Hmm. Small and thin, not good." She opened the letter and read it. With an accepting sigh, she said, "Looks like they weren't interested in a human adopting three alien children."

"Bummer."

"Another for the reject pile. Keeps my head from getting too big."

Sticking a paint brush behind her ear, Jane Lane, Karen's other roommate, came around the corner from her room. "God knows we don't want that brain of yours to have any more room to exercise. Anything good for me?"

Karen held up one letter. "Boston Athletic Association?"

Jane sprang forward and grabbed the letter. "Cool!" She tore it open and after a moment, jumped up and down yelling, "Yes!"

Karen stepped over to Daria. "I think she's excited."

Daria folded her arms. "Could be."

"I'm in." Jane held the letter up in front of her roommates. "The Boston Marathon. They accepted that rinky-dink one I ran in Oakdale for my qualifying time."

Daria lowered her letter. "Was that the marathon you ran out of boredom while waiting to come to Boston?"

"That's it."

Karen leaned against the table. "Damn. I knew you liked running, but I didn't think you had it that bad. Good luck."

"Thanks. I'm looking forward to it."

"When?" Daria asked.

"The seventeenth of next month." Jane smirked at Daria. "I wouldn't mind you being there."

"I will, as long as you promise not to splash mud on me."  
hr>

Todd Baker looked over his roommate's shoulder at the computer monitor. "Damn, dude. They call those cabins? Look more like honeymoon suites. But then, I don't suppose you'd want to take Daria to some place that I would picture as a cabin."

Michael Fulton turned and said, "Your idea of a cabin has several cots, poker table, a dozen fishing rods, and a massive gas grill. Oh, and a large cooler of beer. Running water is optional."

"Well, yeah. Like I said, someplace your girlfriend wouldn't want to be."

"Well, enjoy your trip to Florida for Spring Break. What was that place again?"

"Daytona. Going down for Black College Reunion. It is the place to be for hip-hop music this time of year."

"And the girls there have nothing to do with it?"

Todd raised both eyebrows. "No, not a thing."

"Right."

"Just like a romantic setting has nothing to do with the places you're looking at for next week."

"Touche"

* * *

Daria sat in the computer chair next to Jane's IMac while Jane packed her suitcase. Daria said, "Three hours isn't that long of a drive." 

Jane smiled. "Especially for who's waiting for me."

"You should get there by lunch time tomorrow. Tell Mack 'hi' for me."

"Don't worry, I will. So what's Michael got planned for you?"

"He said he found some nice bed and breakfast cabins in New Hampshire."

"Sounds cozy."

Daria looked down and smiled. "They look like it."

Karen leaned against the door frame. "Well, enjoy your trips. Having the place to myself for a week is going to be nice."

Jane wagged a finger. "Don't tell me you're going to stay here alone all week."

"Well?"

"Just make sure Derek puts the toilet seat down before he leaves."

"I'll remind him." Karen laughed and went into the dining room. She called back, "Hey, has anybody checked the answering machine today?"

Jane shook her head and Daria called back, "No."

"Well, there's a message here."

Karen hit the playback button and Daria's cousin Erin's voice came on, saying, "Um, hi guys. Things have really gone downhill here and I'm about to head out of the door for Boston. I'll fill you in when I get there. If you can put me up for a couple days until I can find a place, I'd really appreciate it. Anyway, it's eleven in the morning, so hopefully I'll be there by something like nine or so. Thanks again for the offer. Bye."

Karen looked at the wall clock. "Um, she should be here any time now."

Daria and Jane looked at each other and Daria spoke first. "She's my cousin. I'll stay to help."

"Inviting her was my idea. I'll stay."

Daria looked toward the dining room. "Karen's an innocent bystander. We both better stay."

"Yeah. There go our grand plans for spring break. I'll call Mack and let him know."

Daria pulled out her cell phone. "I hope Michael's reservations were refundable."

* * *

"Wow, I wasn't expecting such a crowd," Erin Danielson said as Jane opened the door. Behind her, she could see Daria and Karen, as well as Michael and Derek Adler, Karen's boyfriend, gathered around three boxes of pizza on the dinner table. 

Daria said, "I hope you don't mind, but I assumed you brought as many of your belongings as possible."

"Well, I have a small rental trailer and my car is stuffed," Erin replied.

"This neighborhood is safe enough to leave a locked trailer down there, but you'll want to unload your car for driving around to find an apartment."

Derek cracked his knuckles. "That's why we've been recruited." He stooped over and let his arms hang akimbo before he grunted and said, "Strong back. Weak mind."

Michael said, "That, and I picked up the pizza on the way over. Dig in. We have a carnivore special, a veggie, and a basic pepperoni."

Behind Erin, Jane closed the door. "You've had a long drive. Take it easy and we'll get your stuff carried up."

Karen took the small suitcase from Erin's hand. "Please, grab a slice and a soda and have a seat."

Dumbfounded, Erin walked to the table and selected a slice of veggie pizza. "Did you get any diet?"

Michael shrugged. "Oops. Didn't think of it."

Erin smiled back. "I shouldn't complain." She picked up a lemon-lime soda and a napkin. "Thanks everybody."

Karen waved her hands. "Okay you mules, get to work!"

When everyone started to the door, Erin said, "Daria, could you stay a minute?"

Daria looked at the rest, who all waved toward Erin. Daria nodded and said, "Sure."

Once they were alone, Erin said, "Daria, there's a lot more going on than me divorcing Brian."

* * *

The ringing telephone caused Helen Morgendorffer to get up from the sofa. "I'll get it honey." 

Behind his newspaper, Jake Morgendorffer said, "Thanks. I'll get the next one."

_Eric, this damn well better not be you. I'm not an associate anymore,_ Helen thought as she walked to the kitchen. She picked up the phone and sweetly said, "Hello?"

Sitting nervously in an ornate chair in her immaculately kept home in Virginia, Tess Barksdale said, "Hello Helen. How are you?"

"Mother, what a wonderful surprise. I'm doing fine."

"Oh, that's good to hear."

In the background, Helen could hear her sister, Rita, say, "Has she seen her? Or even heard anything?"

Helen's eyes narrowed. "Mother, what's going on?"

"Oh, nothing much. Your sister was wondering if you've talked to Erin lately."

"Why would she want to talk to me?"

"To keep in touch with her family?"

"Mother."

Tess sighed and said, "Rita and I returned home about an hour ago and found that Erin had left, taking her close personal belongings. She left divorce papers for Brian."

"Oh, dear. No, Mother, I haven't heard from her. Do you think she was looking for legal advice?"

"No, the papers she left look to be well prepared. I think she hired a lawyer without telling me."

"Oh. How did Brian react?"

"He's insensate drunk."

"Since you seem to have examined the papers, what kind of settlement is Erin proposing?"

"A strict adherence to the prenuptial agreement."

"If I remember correctly from when they almost got a divorce a couple years ago, that prenup was his idea. If so, it'll be very hard for him to fight. To be honest, it sounds like Erin just wants out."

"I'm just heartbroken. After all I did for them."

Helen scowled. "Yes."

"Helen, don't start. I'm worried about her."

"Have you contacted her friends?"

"Yes, the only one that would talk to me said Erin told her she'd be in contact sometime next week with her new address."

"Well, it sounds like Erin is trying to make a clean break and move away. This also sounds planned, not something spur of the moment."

"Thanks, Helen. Please let us know if you hear from her."

"I will, Mother. Tell Rita to relax, I'm sure Erin is okay."

"I will, good night."

"Good night."

Helen shut off the phone and stared out of the window. Jake said, "Oh God, what's the bad news this time?"

She set the phone down and faced him. "Erin's getting a divorce and already moved out. Nobody knows where she is."

"Please, don't tell me they want you to handle the divorce!"

"Relax, Jake. Erin already took care of that."

"Whew. I don't think I could deal with a visit from them without Daria around."

Helen sighed. "She has developed a knack for handling my family. Better than I do."

* * *

"Yeah, she ran my life all these years," Erin explained to Daria, "But she also did a lot for me. I wanted to make sure that Brian couldn't get a claim on anything of hers, only our actual joint possessions." 

"I can see that. So what did you discover?"

"Besides the house, Grandma has almost no real assets left to protect."

Daria's jaw dropped. "Huh?"

"The accounts are all but empty. The only cash assets left are your college trust fund and Quinn's."

"What happened?"

"It took a while before she would admit it, but day trading."

"Grandma lost it all on the stock market?" Daria sat in shock. "I didn't even know she had a computer."

"One of Mom's old boyfriends set one up for her."

"What's Grandma going to do?"

Erin slowly shook her head. "I don't think she knows. Daria, I've covered a lot of expenses the last couple months. With me gone, Mom and Grandma have no real income."

"Have they told my mom or Amy?"

"Have you heard your mom explode?"

"Damn. We need to tell them."

"Could you?"

"Tomorrow. I'll need to be well-rested."

Embarrassed, Erin looked away. "We've never been close, and you're going to do all this to help me."

"Jane calls you a friend. That's good enough for me."

Michael set a box on the floor and then sat next to Daria, gently putting an arm around her. "Done."

Erin struggled to maintain her composure as Daria naturally leaned against Michael, faintly remembering when Brian made her feel the same way. "Thank you. Look, I need to use the restroom."

She barely closed the door before a silent, shuddering sob hit her.

* * *

"Wake up, you drunk-assed bastard!" Rita screamed as she kicked Brian. Her son-in-law was asleep on the sofa of the old guest house that he and Erin had lived in since their marriage. 

"Nnugh. Keep it down, Rita. I feel like crap," he mumbled without opening his eyes.

Rita slapped him with the divorce papers. "Erin's gone and here are your walking papers!"

Brian opened his eyes. "Waddaya mean, gone?"

"She's divorcing you!"

Brian sat up and grabbed the papers, trying to read them.

Rita planted both hands on her hips. "I want you out of here tomorrow."

"Well, that bitch! We had a prenup and she's not getting out of it!"

"She's not fighting it. Get out."

"I'll get out when I'm ready."

Tess appeared at the door and calmly said, "You will vacate my property by eight PM tomorrow or I will have Sheriff Mason escort you off."

He charmingly smiled. "Grandma, after all you've done for us?"

"Exactly. After all I've done for you." Her eyes smoldered from her renowned temper. "So my granddaughter would be happy. It's clear even to my old eyes that she isn't happy."

"Come on, Grandma."

"Eight PM."

"Fine! You miserable old hag! I've had enough of your crap!" He staggered up and stomped past Tess. "I'll go get some help."

He got into his car and tried to put the key in the door to unlock it, but failed. After scratching the paint several times, he threw the keys on the ground and started walking up the driveway.

Rita started looking around and said, "Oh, my."

Tess also felt the effect of all Erin's personal items missing.

Rita went to the bedroom and stood before an empty closet. She whispered, "Mother," before crying.

Tess joined her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

After a minute, Rita snorted and said, "I need a tissue."

After a brief search, she saw a box next to a computer and pulled several out. After drying her eyes and blowing her noise, she tossed it toward the trash can, missing.

Tess held up a hand. "I'll get it." She gingerly picked up the tissue and dropped it in the can. She stared at a rumpled sheet of paper. She retrieved it and stood, looking at the driving directions map printed above an ink smear where the paper had jammed during printing.

"Boston."

* * *

Erin put a box of pizza remains in the refrigerator while Jane dealt with the dishes. Erin said, "I'm sorry you had to put off visiting Mack. I forgot that you mentioned next week was spring break." 

"I'll live. But what about you? How are you going to get by?"

"I've got enough money saved to get into a small apartment. Between any left over and a credit card solely in my name, I hope that will tide me over until I get my first paycheck."

"Gutsy, and scary."

"You won't believe how scared I am."

"Wait a minute. You said 'first paycheck' like you already have a job."

Erin nodded. "That's why I'm moving now. I start a week from Monday. One of the resumes I dropped off last fall paid off."

"Cool, what'll you be doing?"

"Personal assistant for an executive at Boston Products."

"Sounds?"

The telephone rang and Jane went out to answer it. "LMM Pizza. No topping too disgusting, no delivery fee too outrageous."

Tess said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was trying to reach my granddaughter. Must have the wrong number."

"Mrs. Barksdale?"

"Yes, oh, wait. You sound like Miss Lane."

"That's me. I'm sorry, but Daria left on a date with Michael about ten minutes ago."

"Oh, well, maybe you can help me. Have you heard from my other granddaughter, Erin?"

Jane looked at Erin, who stared back in worry.

Sensing the pause, Tess said, "Is she all right?"

Jane sighed and gave Erin an embarrassed shrug. "She's fine."

"Thank goodness. Her mother and I have been so worried. Please put her on."

Jane held a hand over the phone and handed it to Erin, who kept the microphone covered and said "It's freaky how she can do that." Into the phone she said, 'Hi Grandma."

"Erin! You had us worried sick. How could you just leave like that?"

"Because I wanted to leave quietly."

"Why would you want that?"

"Because that's the only way I could!"

"That must mean you didn't really want to leave."

"No! It means that every time I tried before, either Brian talked me into staying or you did." Erin closed her eyes tight. "I wanted out."

"But you didn't have to leave."

"Yes I did!" Erin sat at down on a dining chair and tears started flowing down her cheeks. "I have to start over. I can't stay down there any more."

"Look, dear. Brian will be gone by tomorrow night. Come home and we can talk about it."

"I can't. I already resigned my job."

"You did what!"

"So I can start my new one up here."

"You did all this without telling anyone?"

"Grandma." Erin sobbed and fought back a little control. "It was the only way. If you knew, you would've stopped me. I had to. I'm sorry. I know you've done a lot for me, but I couldn't take it any more."

"Some gratitude, young lady."

"Gratitude? If it hadn't been for me paying for groceries and the utilities, you would've charged those on your cards, too. How long do you think you can keep that up?"

Tess was silent.

Erin sniffed and wiped the tears from her face with her free hand. "Grandma, I couldn't stay."

"You've hurt your mother a lot. We'll talk about this later. Good-bye."

"Bye, Grandma."

* * *

A deputy sheriff dialed the phone and leaned back in his chair. After waiting through several rings, he said, "Good evening, Mrs. Barksdale. Sheriff Mason wanted me to tell you that Mr. Brian was picked up along Tullenburg road. He's?" 

The young man nodded solemnly for half a minute before he said, "Yes, ma'am. I'll tell the sheriff that. Have a good evening, ma'am."

He shrugged and put the phone down before yelling to the holding cell down the hall, "Well Mr. Brian. Looks like Granny ain't in a good mood and ya get to spend the night with us." The deputy laughed. "And remember, if ya puke on the floor, ya get to clean it up."

A groan from down the hall was the only response. The deputy picked up a hunting magazine and started reading. He muttered, "What a dumbass. Married into the Barksdales and blew it. Hell, for that kinda money, I'd have learned what fork to eat with."

* * *

On the landing outside the apartment door, Daria returned Michael's gentle embrace. "Thanks for being understanding about everything." She pressed her cheek against his chest. "I was looking forward to it, too." 

"Not to sound crass?but I hope your cousin finds a place soon and we can spend part of the week up there."

"Um?thanks."

He softly kissed her. "I love you."

She slid a hand around the back of his head and returned the kiss. "I love you."

After another long kiss, Daria caught her breath and said, "I wish?"

"So do I."

"Good night, Michael."

"Good night."

They held hands for a few moments longer before he slowly walked down the stairs. Daria entered the apartment and found Erin sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her, watching television.

She tilted her head to invite Daria over. "I don't know how, but Grandma figured out I was here."

Daria leaned over the back of the sofa. "We'll just have to deal."

"Do you get a paper?"

Daria nodded. "It's delivered out front with Mrs. Lyndon's, the landlady."

"Good. I can start looking tomorrow morning."

"And I'll talk to Mom and Aunt Amy. We better get some sleep, we've got a lot to do tomorrow, and I smell a lot of stress attached to it."

"I just hope Grandma doesn't decide to fly up to talk to me."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

* * *

"Yippee!" Karen's loud exclamation echoed through early the next morning. Daria stumbled out of bed and pulled down her nightshirt and wandered out to join Erin and Jane, also clad in sleepwear, at Karen's door. 

The printer was already running when Karen turned the computer monitor to face the others, revealing a picture of a ruddy-faced newborn. "Wayne Edward Myerson. Born at nine-fifty-two last night. I'm officially an aunt."

Jane smirked. "Cool. Now you can really be a bad influence on somebody."

Karen read part of the email attached to the photo. "Jill's doing good. She was in labor for three and half hours and there were no complications. Terry says all bets are off, he didn't pass out."

Erin wistfully looked at the image. "He's cute. Sorry if I don't remember who Jill and Terry are."

"Terry's my brother and Jill's the saint that married him. You'd have to be a saint to put up with him." Karen put her hand to her mouth. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

Oddly, Daria felt a softness toward the image of the baby. "Well, congratulations. Although, has anyone else noticed that most newborns look like Winston Churchill?"

Everyone glared at her.

"Well, they do."

* * *

"Make sure you look at them first." Karen shook her head. "Some of the places we saw that looked good in the paper were some real dives." 

"I'll remember that." Erin circled a possibility in the paper. "This will be kind of weird; I've never lived in an apartment before."

"Hey, I grew up in a farmhouse in the middle of six hundred acres. And then I moved into a dorm room. You'll survive."

Daria sat down with the phone. "I'll take care of the easy one first."

Daria read from an address book and dialed a number.

Amy Barksdale opened one eye to look at the ringing telephone in her bedroom. "Shut up, you spawn of Satan."

After several more rings, she swung an arm over and grabbed it, fumbling for a second before bringing it to her ear. "Hello? This better be good, because I'm not in the mood."

"Hi Amy, it's Daria."

Amy blinked and tried to clear her head. "Daria? What are you doing up this early on a Saturday?"

"Long story. Are you sitting down?"

Amy got her glasses from the nightstand and put them on. "I'm still in bed."

"Even better."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Have you talked to Grandma or Aunt Rita much?"

"Once or twice since Helen and Jake's anniversary. Why?"

"Um?Okay. To start off with, Erin is divorcing Brian."

"From what I hear, good move on her part."

"And she's about ten feet away from me looking at apartment ads in the paper."

"She's actually getting away from Mother and Rita? I didn't think she had it in her. Probably do her a world of good, especially with the three of you as guides. Though that means she will get a uniquely distorted view of things."

Daria inhaled and braced herself. "Now the bad news."

"Mother blew a gasket and is making threats about removing her from the will?"

"No. She's almost broke."

"Well, moving on short notice will do that. Hopefully Erin can get on her feet soon."

"No. Grandma's almost broke."

Amy sat up straight. "Please say that again."

"Grandma is almost broke."

Amy rubbed her eyes and blinked in confusion. "I did hear you right. Do you know what happened?"

"From what Erin told me, online stock trading. Probably combined with all the tech stocks tanking."

Amy whistled. "A lot of people got nailed by that. A senior prof over at the Statistics Department lost most of his retirement that way. What's she doing about it?"

"I think she's still in denial and living on credit cards."

"Mother would do something like that. Oh, damn. I just thought of something. What about the college funds?"

"They haven't been touched."

"Thank goodness. Have you told Helen yet?"

"She's next."

"Good luck."

"Any advice?"

"Daria, wealth and status have always been major parts of Mother's life. Admitting she no longer has them is going to be a major blow."

"I guessed."

"She'll probably need to be pushed into seeing it. I don't think Rita is that capable of standing up to Mother?and I doubt if she'll listen to Helen or me."

Daria winced. "Thanks, Amy."

"I'm really sorry. I've burned bridges that Mother still hasn't forgiven me for." Amy shook her head. "I don't believe I'm about to say this. If it helps?I have some cash tucked away. Comes with being a tenured professor and single. But only on one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you absolutely don't let anyone touch those trust funds. I mean it."

"All right. Are you sure Grandma won't?oh, what am I saying?"

"Good luck with telling Helen."

"Thanks, I'll need it."

"Keep me updated."

"I will. Bye."

"Daria, I know I'm leaving you to do a crappy job. I owe you."

"Um..."

"Now that I'm fully awake, I need to get out of bed and take care of things my body insists on. Bye, Daria."

"Thanks, bye Amy."

After Daria turned the phone off, Erin said, "That didn't sound too bad."

Daria tilted her head down and looked back. "Amy recruited me to get Grandma to face what's going on. And I thought her call would be the easy one."

"Ouch."

Daria took a drink of coffee and started dialing again. "I better get this over with."

Cleaning a bit of egg from his forehead after some overzealous mixing, Jake picked up the phone. "Hello."

"Hi, Dad."

"Hey Kiddo! What's up?"

"Um, quite a lot, really." Daria stopped and thought for a moment. _He'll feel a lot better if I don't skip over him and go straight to Mom._ "Um?Erin is getting a divorce and staying with me for a couple days while she finds an apartment."

"Oh, so that's where she ran off to!"

"You knew? Oh, Grandma must've called looking for her."

"Last night. Why'd she go up to see you?"

"Long story. Look, can I talk to Mom?"

"Oh, sure. I need to get back to fixing breakfast."

Daria closed her eyes and pictured the disaster the kitchen must be. "Thanks, Dad."

Jake held the phone out for Helen, who was at the table examining some briefs. "Daria wants to talk to you. Erin's staying with her."

Helen took the phone. "That's odd." She spoke into it, "Daria, good morning."

"Sounds like you heard."

"Thanks to Mother's call."

"Yeah, she somehow figured out Erin is here and called last night, too."

"Out of curiosity, how did Erin end up with you?"

"Well, she got to know Jane during the unveiling of that portrait Jane did. Jane told her she could stay if she ever needed a place."

"So, she's leaving Brian."

"She's leaving everyone. Erin's already got a job and we're trying to find her a place to stay."

"That's nice of you."

"Thanks. Mom, that's not the reason I called."

"Oh?"

"Grandma did a lot of online stock trading the last couple of years. She lost almost everything but the house."

Helen exploded. "She what!"

"Bad trades and falling tech stocks. She's living on credit cards now."

"Dammit!"

"Mom, we need to do something."

"Never could listen to anybody. Pig-headed?"

"Mom. It's too late for that."

"We need to get her to a bankruptcy expert as soon as possible."

"I'm kind of hoping you could help with that end. After talking with Amy, I agreed to try to talk Grandma into getting help."

"You already talked to Amy?"

"Right before I called you."

"You called her first?"

"I thought both of you should know and I wanted to have more time to talk to you."

"Oh, well, good thinking. Did she say anything else?"

"That she can help out, money-wise, if needed."

"Oh. Well, I suppose we could help, too. We have several good associates in bankruptcy law I can get onboard Monday. I won't be an Eric and call them on the weekend."

"Thanks, Mom. Now for the real hard part: calling Grandma back and trying to convince her to get help."

"Are you sure you're up to that?"

"I don't know, but I think I have the best chance."

"Oh." Helen looked out the window in surprise for a minute. "Good luck then, you'll need it."

"Good-bye, Mom."

"Bye, Sweetie."

Helen set the phone down and continued looking out of the window, a mix of surprise and frustration growing on her face.

Daria shut the connection and started dialing immediately. "Better get this done before the better part of valor kicks in."

After several rings, she heard, "You have reached the residence of Mrs. Tess Barksdale. I am not at home or am occupied with other business and cannot answer the telephone at this time. Please record a message and I will reply in a timely manner. Thank you."

* * *

A deputy pushed on Brian's shoulder. "Wake up. This ain't no hotel." 

Feeling wretched, Brian sat up. "Ugh."

"Get up. The sheriff wants me to escort you over to Mrs. Barksdale's place to move your stuff out."

"I can get it myself. Stuffy old bitch."

"Mrs. Barksdale and Mrs. Rita had to go out of town today. The sheriff told me to keep you out of trouble while you move."

"Good. I didn't want to look at them anyway."

* * *

Jake watched his wife absently pick at her breakfast. "Honey?" 

Unfocussed, Helen mumbled, "Mmm?"

"You've hardly touched your scrambled eggs. Are they that bad?"

"Hmm? Oh, no dear. I'm thinking about Daria."

"She'll find Erin a place in no time."

"And Mother."

"Oh, that."

"Yes. Jake?" Helen pushed back her chair and stood. "Dammit! I just agreed without a word! I'm letting my little girl walk right into the lion's den!"

"But?"

"I'm calling Mother. Right now." She grabbed the phone and dialed.

After several rings, Helen also heard, "You have reached the residence of Mrs. Tess Barksdale. I am not at home or am occupied with other business and cannot answer the telephone at this time. Please record a message and I will reply in a timely manner. Thank you."

"Mother, this is Helen. We need to talk right away. Call me at home or on my cell."

Helen turned off the phone and sat back down. "Well, Mother's not home. I hope that means Daria hasn't talked to her either."

Helen found a little more appetite and started on her eggs. When she was almost done, the phone rang and she picked it up.

"Hello."

Brian leaned against the payphone and wadded up the number he'd written down from directory assistance before tossing it into a trash can. "I want to speak to that miserable old bat."

Helen said, "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."

"Helen Morgendorffer? My soon to be ex-wife's stuck-up aunt?"

"Brian?"

"Brilliant. Must be why you're the lawyer."

"There's no need to be rude."

"I want to ask your miserable mother what the hell is the deal of getting Sheriff Mason's goons to watch over me while I move out?"

"She's not here. But with the way you're acting, I can see why she'd want somebody to keep an eye on you."

"Well, she went somewhere for the weekend and I know she wouldn't go near the Ice Queen."

"I told you, Mother's not here."

"Well, where is she?"

"How should I know?"

"Yeah, how should you? At least you two had the good sense to stay away from her. Must be off with one of her snooty friends."

He hung up the phone and the deputy walked over from the car. "Any luck getting some help?"

Brian shook his head. "No." He motioned back to the police car. "Ah, screw it. I just want to get my clothes and the TV. I don't want the rest of that crap to remind me of her."

The deputy followed him back. "Just want out, huh?"

"Hell, the old lady's money is gone and Erin was just getting bitchier every day."

"Mrs. Barksdale's money is gone?"

"Yep."

The deputy whistled.

* * *

Helen stared at the phone harshly for several seconds. "Good riddance." She put it down and picked up her fork to finish breakfast. 

Jake asked, "Who was that?"

"Brian, looking for Mother. Seems she's out of town for the weekend." Helen stopped her fork in mid-motion. "And Mother knows Erin is in Boston."

"So, she knows?" Jake gulped.

Helen picked up the phone and dashed to the cabinet to quickly look through a telephone book. She dialed and impatiently waited for an answer. "Hello?This is Helen Morgendorffer?M-O-R-G-E-N-D-O-R-F-F-E-R?You have my information on file?Yes, that's it. I can get to the airport in about an hour. I need the soonest flight to Boston after that."

Jake spun in his chair. "Boston?"

Helen waved him off. "Don't give me that, young man, I've got enough miles on my gold card to cover it?Don't give me that, either, I have read every bit of the contract?I went through a lot of effort to find one without blackouts?I am a lawyer and I completely understand it?Yes, that's right, thank you. One hour and forty minutes? Fine, one please, with a return tomorrow night?One carryon?Good day."

"What are you doing?"

"Jake, I'm not letting Daria stand up to Mother alone."

* * *

Daria wrapped her arms around Michael's chest and pressed her cheek against him. "Thanks for coming over. I didn't want to face this alone." 

He softly placed his arms around her shoulders and felt her relax a bit. "Any time, but where's everyone else?"

"Erin didn't want to face Grandma. Jane and Karen took her out apartment hunting."

Michael picked up a grocery bag and they stepped inside. "You expect things to be that bad?"

"Getting Mom's family together is always a powder keg. Everyone will be irritable from the flight and I know things will get very ugly. You have to remember that Mom and Aunt Rita started a small riot at Erin's wedding and Grandma Tess started an argument with my Grandma Ruth when Mom and Dad renewed their wedding vows."

He set the bag on the dining table. "Are you sure you're related to them?"

"I haven't done any DNA testing, but otherwise, yes."

"What's the plan?"

"I'm guessing Mom will be here in about two and half hours. I don't know when Grandma will be here or if Rita is with. She has a longer flight, but I'm sure she got started earlier."

* * *

Daria spoke into the telephone. "I don't know specifically where they are at or how long it'll take. You and Aunt Rita are welcome to come here and wait for Erin?Okay, put her on?Hi, Aunt Rita, I'm fine?Two-Seven-Eight-Five-Bee Silversmith Drive, that's correct. The driveway goes around the side of the house and the stairs to our apartment are in back?.Okay?Uh-huh?Uh-huh?Fine?Be careful, the construction that way is awful?No, you'll want the to turn left at the third light past there. It's five blocks to Silversmith, turn right and we're the third house on the right?With traffic, about forty-five minutes from Logan?Good-bye." 

Daria set it down. "That answers who'll be here first. Hopefully I can use the time to get Grandma to do something about her situation before Mom shows up."

Michael held her hand. "Good luck. I'll try not to say anything stupid."

She leaned over and kissed him. "If you stay through all this, I know you love me. And I'll owe you big time."

He slid closer and returned the kiss. "That's incentive."

* * *

"Grandma. Aunt Rita. Come in." Daria held the door open for them. 

Tess entered and looked around the apartment.

"Good afternoon, Daria."

Rita followed and said, "Daria, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Aunt Rita."

"Thanks for seeing us on short notice."

"Um, no problem."

Tess glared at Michael. "Who are you, young man?"

He extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Michael Fulton."

"Ah, Daria's suitor."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barksdale, Mrs. Chambers."

"You're presentable and you have some manners. Pleased to meet you." She looked around at the smooth plaster walls and wood wainscoting of the apartment and gave Daria a smile. "I must say you have excellent taste in housing."

"We were lucky to find this place." Daria moved to the table. "I have some hot water ready, and Michael picked up some English Breakfast tea for you."

Tess looked at the aluminum kettle and unmatched ceramic cups. "Hmm. Perhaps I should find you a proper tea service."

Daria poured water for everyone. "The cups are all hand-made by Jane's mother."

Tess accepted her cup and delicately dipped the tea bag into it. "I see creativity runs in Miss Lane's family."

Rita took her cup. "Please tell me Erin's all right."

"She's fine and stayed here last night."

Tess looked at the stacked boxes. "I can tell. And you say she's out looking for an apartment now?"

"With Jane and my other roommate, Karen. Jane is good at discovering things in places you wouldn't expect to look, and Karen is practical enough to balance Jane."

"How cute." Rita bent over and came back up holding a black cat with white paws.

"That's Bump." Daria reached over and scratched the cat's head. "She adopted me about five months ago."

Tess briefly looked at the cat before retuning her attention to Daria. "Can't you call Erin or your friends?"

Daria shrugged. "I'm the only one with a cell phone. Erin said she left hers in Virginia."

Rita asked, "Did she really tell you she wanted to get away?"

"Yes. Rita, has Erin ever been separated from you and Grandma for any length of time?"

"Not much."

"She's twenty-five. I think it's time you let her have a life of her own."

Tess rolled her eyes. "You sound like your mother. Helen wanted to have a life of her own and she got it."

"Coming here was Erin's choice. I support it." Daria held her temper. "If she wants to speak to you about it, I'll also support that."

"Then I guess we wait. Tell me, Daria, why didn't you sound surprised that we were in town?"

Daria frowned. "Mom called earlier today and said she thought you were coming. She'll probably be here in an hour."

Peeved, Tess said, "And you waited until now to tell me?"

Daria sighed. "Grandma, I was hoping to talk to you about something beforehand."

Rita looked up from petting Bump. "Helen's not coming here about Erin, is she?"

Daria shook her head. _Now comes the real hard part. _Feeling the stress in the air, she said, "No. Grandma, Erin told me about your financial problems."

"I guess Erin is angry at us to say such things," Tess said.

"No, she was concerned."

"And you told your mother."

"Yes, and Aunt Amy."

"I'm sure they're gloating."

"Mom offered to get some bankruptcy specialists at her firm to look at your situation and Amy offered her savings."

"They must be enjoying that."

"Excuse me." Michael said. "It sounds like they're trying to help out."

Tess snapped back, "This is family business. Why are you even here? Are you planning on becoming part of the family?"

Michael blanched as Tess and Rita looked at him.

Tess persisted. "Well? Are you?"

He whispered, "I hope?some day." Louder, he said, "I love Daria. She asked, so I'm here for her."

Daria gave him a warm smile of thanks. After tapping her finger on the table, she said, "Grandma, Mom and Amy are willing to help. When you recognize that you need it."

Tess's eyes started to burn with anger. "Erin exaggerated things."

Daria held firm. "Please tell me that you aren't using cash advances or courtesy checks from one credit card to pay another?"

Rita said, "Mother?"

"It's only a temporary setback." Tess angrily explained. "Stocks go up and down. You can't panic when you have some difficulty."

"Erin said you were doing online trading." Daria stood up. "Why don't we go to my computer and take a look at your portfolio?"

"I don't need to prove anything to you, young lady."

"How about to reassure?" Michael asked.

"Grandma, I would like nothing better than to be wrong. If your portfolio has only suffered a setback - the discussion ends and I'll apologize." Daria said. "If it shows you're in trouble, will you please talk with me?"

Tess looked between the others. "Daria, you negotiate like Helen. And after what you did at your parent's anniversary, I know you can be as stubborn as I am."

* * *

Michael waited in the hallway while Tess and Rita gathered around Daria at the computer in her bedroom. 

Feeling like both women's eyes were boring into her, Daria pushed her chair back, turned and said, "Go ahead and enter your password."

Tess tapped in the code and hit enter. "Done."

Tension knotting her stomach, Daria spun back around and studied the displayed stock values and trends. I never knew she had that much money. "Bought at sixty-seven and currently one and a half. Bought at one-twenty and currently at three. Bought at eighty-three and a half and sold at a half."

"Those are not representative. I've been managing money since before you were born."

"Ninety three and a quarter down to eleven. Fifty six to thirty. One-hundred and seven to fifteen. Grandma, this?"

"Daria, how dare?" Realizing she was caught, Tess sat on the bed and stared at the wooden floor. "You're right."

"You've lost?"

"Almost everything Simon worked his whole life for."

"Mother?" Rita stood in shock.

Tess looked up at Rita. "Daria's right. I lost it. Everything but the house. That was always inviolate."

Daria quickly got up and let Rita sit in the chair. Rita said to Tess, "W-what are we going to do?"

* * *

"She gave me herpes. Yep, the gift that keeps on giving." 

"Wow, I never would've expected that." The deputy shook his head.

Brian closed the trunk of his car and leaned against it, working several keys off of his key ring. "These are the keys to my old place and the main house. Can I run in and leave them? I can lock up on my way out and we can go our separate ways."

The deputy yawned. "I'll follow you in. Don't want you torchin' the place."

"Whatever."

Brian unlocked the door and went in with the deputy trailing. He tossed the keys onto a small table. When Brian turned, he saw the portrait of him and Erin that Tess had commissioned the previous summer down. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Hurry up."

Brian went into the bathroom and waited a moment. He cracked open the door and saw the deputy aimlessly looking at the artwork and knickknacks in the house. He quietly walked out, pulled a folding knife from his pocket and slashed across the portrait. With a satisfied smirk, he returned to the bathroom and flushed the toilet.

Calmly walking out, he said, "Let's go. The door will lock when we close it."

* * *

Seated on the opposite side of the couch from Tess, Michael nervously explained as he petted Bump. "You're right, archeology positions are scarce. I learned surveying from my father; that's almost always in demand. Plus, I've applied for a work-study position at the new GIS lab opening this summer." 

Tess queried him, "GIS?"

"Geographic Information Systems. A method of using computer databases to look at geographic patterns and trends of almost anything. The learning curve on the software is the pits, but it'll be worth it. Plus, the technology is making the shift into archeology, so I'll get dual-use experience."

"Sounds like you have everything planned."

"I'm trying."

"Email or call if you have questions," Daria said as she entered the living room with Rita.

Rita carried a folder of papers and a diskette. "Are you sure it's all right to use those club offices and committee memberships on a resume?"

"You don't have any formal employment experience, but they show what skills you have."

"I'm almost forty-nine. Who'll hire me?"

"I don't know and I'm betting it won't be easy." Hearing a knock, Daria said, "That must be Mom."

Daria opened the door. "Hi, Mom."

Stressed from worry during the flight, Helen grabbed Daria. "Sweetie, how are you holding up?"

"Um?I'm fine."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner."

"Hello, Helen." Rita said.

"Rita." Helen looked inside. "Mother. Michael?"

"Helen." Tess stood and faced the door. "Daria said she was expecting you."

Michael waved. "Hi, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

Helen released Daria and marched to Tess. "What in the hell happened? Did Erin decide to run away because you're broke?"

Daria moved over to them. "Mom, things are?"

Quickly, Helen turned her head toward Daria. "I'll handle this now." She turned back to Tess. "Well, what happened?"

Tess bristled. "I don't need you barging in here trying to lecture me!"

Helen stepped directly in front of Tess. "I don't need you coming up here to intimidate my daughter!"

Rita chuckled. "I don't think anybody could intimidate her."

Daria placed her hand on Helen's upper arm. "Mom, please."

Helen ignored Daria and turned to Rita. "And your daughter finally decided to get a life of her own and you can't stand it, so you fly up here with Mother to browbeat Erin into coming home."

Michael moved the cat aside and joined them. "Mrs. Morgendorffer, Daria was working stuff out with them."

"What the hell is this?" Helen was furious and confused. "All of you?"

"Damn, Helen." Tess was directly in Helen's face. "You still get so tied up in yourself you can't see what's going on around you."

"Dammit Mother! You lost a fortune! What the hell are you and Rita going to do with yourselves now!"

"On Daria's suggestion, I was going to talk to some of the bankruptcy experts at your law firm." Tess shouted. "But now, I think I'll go find my own."

Daria grabbed Helen's arm and pulled. "Mom!"

"What?"

"Come with me, please."

Helen blinked. "Where?"

Daria tugged gently. "My room."

"Okay." She glared at Tess and Rita. "I'm not done yet."

Daria led her mother into her room and closed the door.

Helen folded her arms. "Well, what do you want? For some strange reason, you seem to be siding with Mother and Rita."

Daria kept her voice low, but the fury was clear. "Mom, things got a little tense for a while, but I managed to get things calmed down. Until you stormed in."

"Are you telling me that you got my mother to listen to you?"

"It wasn't easy, but she did."

Helen exploded. "Then why in the hell did I waste my time coming up here? I thought you'd need my help to deal with Mother."

"I appreciate the thought, but like Amy suggested, there hasn't been as much bad blood between Grandma and me, so she was finally willing to listen."

"Oh, and you're taking advice from Amy now. What am I? Chopped liver?"

Daria lost her control and yelled back, "Why are you so mad at me?"

"Because I'm jealous!" Helen screamed.

Daria was shocked. "Mom?"

Helen sat down hard, but spoke quietly. "I'm jealous of you."

"Me? Why?"

"Look at your life."

"Huh?"

"You're happy. Going to what was really your first choice college; having a young man who loves you; good friends who care for you; and you already have a good start on your career. You're doing what I had hoped to do in college."

"But you met Dad in college."

Helen nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I love Jake. But you have to admit, he's high maintenance."

"Um."

"You live in a nice place with good people. I lived in a crude bunkhouse that had some unsavory characters."

"What about Coyote and Willow?"

"Daria, they were the only two there that really believed. I thought I believed, but it all went away."

"But Mom, what about all you've done since college? After years of hard work, you finally made partner and broke the glass ceiling."

Helen sadly sighed. "At fifty. If I hadn't stubbornly stayed with that awful firm in Highland so long, I'd have been a partner somewhere years ago. And what has it gotten me? Sure, the workload is less, but now I get to see firsthand the backroom politics of the firm and how decisions are made about clients."

"Oh, kind of a sausage factory?"

"More like potted meat."

"I'm sorry. After all of your hard work, to be so disappointed."

Helen looked at the cell phone next to Daria's computer. "And, you get along with your sister so much better than I get along with mine. Hell, you get along with my family better than I do."

Daria cautiously sat beside Helen and rested a hand on her mother's. "But you still have Dad, Quinn and me."

Surprised, Helen looked at their hands before placing her other one on top. "I do. I guess I have done something right."

"Mom, you weren't perfect, nobody is. But, when it really counted, you were there for me. If I ever have kids of my own, I know I'll make mistakes too. I just hope I remember to be there when I'm really needed."

Helen smiled warmly. "Daria. That's the first time you ever mentioned an interest in children."

"Don't get your hopes up yet. I'm only admitting the possibility instead of rejecting the idea outright."

Helen hugged Daria. "If you decide to, I know you'll be a better mother than I was."

"Uh, yeah. Maybe for a bunch of aliens."

"What?"

"Sorry, joke about my last rejected story."

Helen gently laughed. "Oh."

"Mom, if we smooth things out, Grandma will consult with those bankruptcy guys and will accept some help from Amy. I helped Rita put together some resumes so she can try to find a job."

"That'll be a first."

Daria sternly said, "Mom."

"Go on."

"Did you know Grandma and Rita have been active in a lot of social and community activities?"

"No."

"They might be able to parlay that experience into jobs. Let's hope."

"Daria, how bad are Mother's finances?"

"Very bad. She's going to need those experts."

Helen squeezed Daria's hand and stood up. "Time to go eat some crow."

* * *

"At least you won't have to do a lot of vacuuming," Karen said as she climbed the stairs with Jane and Erin. 

"That's fine with me. I'm not used to doing a lot of housework." Erin stopped at the landing. "There are two rental cars down there and I don't hear fighting. I hope they're not all dead."

Jane patted Erin's shoulder. "Daria's probably figuring out where to dispose of the bodies."

Erin straightened her back. "Let's get this over with."

She pushed open the door and all three stood in surprise. Helen, Tess, Rita and Daria were at the table going through a pile of paper. Michael stood behind Daria with his arms around her shoulders.

"They're not trying to kill each other," Erin said.

Jane closed the door. "I'll take that as a good sign."

Daria said, "Grandma, Rita, you know Jane, and that's my other roommate, Karen Myerson."

Karen stared at Rita for long seconds.

Rita cocked her head. "You look familiar."

Karen said, "Didn't you date my uncle Paul several years ago?"

"Yes. That's where I saw you. At the family Thanksgiving."

Karen looked at Rita, then Erin, and then Daria. "You mean that's the wedding you and your aunt told me about!"

Daria scratched her head. "I seem to remember something about Dad saying he knew Paul when they were kids. Scouts or something. I thought most of your family was in Georgia."

"If you want to get technical, he's one of Dad's cousins," Karen explained. "We called him uncle because it was just easier than trying to keep track of what kind of cousin he was. He knew your Dad?"

Daria shrugged. "Seems so."

"Weird," Karen concluded.

Erin said, "No, what's weird is Mom, Grandma and Aunt Helen sitting here now and not trying to kill each other."

Daria said, "We negotiated a temporary cease-fire."

During the conversation, Rita had walked over to Erin. She embraced her and said, "I've missed you."

"Mom, it's only been a couple days."

Rita sheepishly smiled. "It has, hasn't it?"

Tess said, "Have you found a decent place to stay?"

"It's a small efficiency apartment," Erin replied. "Over a nice flower shop."

Rita struggled to hold back tears. "You really want to stay in Boston, don't you?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Please be careful. I'll worry about you."

Tess said, "If you need anything just let?"

Helen warned, "Mother."

Tess glared at Helen but held back. She asked Erin, "Can we see your new place before we leave?"

"Sure." She asked Michael, "Would you mind helping move stuff again?"

"Yeah, I can be a pack mule again."

"I'll ask Derek," Karen said. "Between the six of us, we can get you in pretty fast."

Daria's cell phone rang. She went to her room and grabbed it, answering on the way out. "Hello?...Hi, Dad. The pigeons are at rest?Oh, forget it. Mom's here?They're here, too?Looks like we might have a plan?No Dad, they're not?Really, they're not?No?Dad, you don't have a wrong number?Dad? Good, you didn't hang up?Mom can fill you in when she gets home?I'll tell her?Okay, bye."

Daria closed the cell phone. "Dad wants you to call when you get to the hotel."

Embarrassed, Helen looked at Tess and Rita. "Do we really fight so much that everyone expects it?"

They looked back at Helen, and then at Daria and Erin. Both nodded.

* * *

Along the street in front of Langston Flowers, the store below Erin's new apartment, Rita stood at the open driver's door of her rental car and said to her daughter, "Please call me when you can." 

"I will Mom." Erin hugged Rita and said, "I'll miss you."

Seated in the passenger seat, Tess said, "Are you sure you have enough room?"

Erin leaned down to look at Tess. "I won't be having any parties up there, but there's enough room for me and it'll be easy to keep up."

* * *

Inside the flower shop, Derek held a single, tissue-wrapped red rose in his hand and waited for his change from the clerk. "Better you than me," he said to Michael. "Those women are scary." 

Holding a similar rose in one hand while he put his wallet in a back pocket, Michael said, "I suppose it comes with the territory."

"And I thought my family got dysfunctional at times."

"I don't think I'll gripe about my little sister as much after this."

"Eh, don't let her off too easy."

"She's starting to date; there are other things I'm worried about."

"Good luck with that."

Michael held his arms out to the side. "Considering how intimidating I am, I'll need it."

* * *

Tess and Rita drove away and Helen hugged Daria. "You take care of yourself." 

Daria pulled her jacket close for warmth after Helen released her hug. She said, "Have a good trip home."

Helen opened the rental car's door. "Thanks, Sweetie." She sat in the car and buckled the seat belt. "I'm proud of the way you handled things. I hope Mother will be grateful for everything you've done."

"Thanks for helping, too."

Helen started the car. "I'm?sorry I was angry with you. I guess I'm still stressing too much."

"Take it easy, then. Better get going if you want to catch your flight."

"Okay. Good-bye, Daria. I love you."

"I love you, Mom. Good-bye."

Helen waved and drove away. After the car disappeared down the street, Daria continued watching. _I'm worried about you._

Gentle arms wrapped around her and a rose was held up in front of her. Daria turned and kissed Michael. "Thanks, I needed that."

Jane folded her arms and watched the couples. "Mack damn well better have some flowers waiting for me when I get there."

* * *

"I've said this before," Derek told Karen, who was cuddled against his chest. "You three are a force of nature when you set your minds to something." 

"Shh. We have the place to ourselves for the rest of the week. As much as I like Daria and Jane, I'm thinking about us now."

Derek held her tight and kissed her forehead. "I can take a hint."

* * *

Incredulous, Jane looked at the colored pencil drawing on craft paper framed on Mack's work desk. "I gave you that in seventh grade!" 

"My dad found it for me and mailed it here. Your little delay dealing with Daria's family gave me time to have it framed."

Jane planted her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. "Okay, you redeemed yourself for not having flowers."

* * *

Clad in a long, black satin nightgown, Daria stepped out of the bathroom. The cabin was as cozy and romantic as the website presented. 

Michael lit two candles on the table and set the tray and plate covers aside from the dinner delivered by room service. Self-consciously, he smoothed the deep blue robe he was wearing. "You look beautiful."

She silently embraced him, feeling herself sink into his gentle arms. Daria remembered what he said during the conversation with her Grandmother and Rita.

_"I hope?some day."_

She softly caressed his cheek. _Some day._

* * *

Thanks to Ipswichfan, Mr. Orange and Kristen Bealer for beta reading. 

September 2005


	13. I Hope You Didn't Have Plans

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the Fortieth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**I Hope You Didn't Have Plans**

"Mmm." Daria Morgendorffer smiled as she cuddled against Michael Fulton's bare back, one arm looping over to rest a hand just over his heart. She lightly kissed his neck and whispered, "Thanks for finding this place. I don't want spring break to end…"

"In Boston, the current conditions are clear and breezy with the temperature at thirty-six degrees. Now, back to Morning Edition," a voice blared from the clock-radio on the stand near her bed. 

"Damn," she sadly said into the pillow she held instead of the one she loved. The five days and nights the two had spent at a bed and breakfast cabin in the New Hampshire hills had been idyllic. "Spring break did end."

Daria reached for her glasses next to the clock and put them on. Next, she turned off the alarm and sat up in bed. The cool air raised goose bumps on her arms as the blanket fell away, revealing a blue satin nightgown. Yawning, Daria swung her legs over the edge and dropped her feet into waiting slippers. After two attempts, she got to her feet and went to the computer desk to start up the system. Rubbing her arms to warm them, the auburn-haired woman crossed the room to her door and opened it.

The smell of fried bacon and coffee helped to open her eyes. Daria went to the edge of the apartment's main room and said toward the kitchen, "How do you keep doing this? I'm barely awake and you've already made your breakfast."

A smiling face under dark blond hair leaned out through the open kitchen door. Karen Myerson said, "Lifelong habit. Besides, I'd starve in the morning if I waited for you or Jane to wake up and make it. And you two are not rooking me into making it every day." She waved a spatula at Daria. "I'm still trying to figure out how you can boot up your computer before you even make it to the bathroom in the morning."

"Speaking of the bathroom, that, um, garment isn't still drying in there, is it?"

Karen laughed and said, "Don't worry; I put it away."

"I can't believe you bought that."

"It was more of a dare from Jane…but Derek certainly enjoyed seeing it."

"I'm sure."

"Hey, I noticed you've stopped wearing Mark Twain night shirts."

Daria lightly blushed. "Guilty." She rubbed her hand over the soft fabric. "I have gotten attached to these."

"I wonder if you'll start wearing a teddy when the temperature warms up."

"Don't push your luck." Daria stepped back toward the bathroom. "As much as I'm enjoying this conversation, there are other things demanding my attention."

Karen laughed more. "Yeah, go get that rat's nest combed out."

* * *

When Daria opened the door to leave the bathroom, Jane Lane was leaning against the wall next to it, lightly snoring.

She poked Jane and said, "Come on, road kill. Wake up."

Jane barely opened one eye. "Kill you. Bury you in bridesmaid's dress." 

"That's my line."

"I'm too tired to make up my own."

Daria stepped into the hall and gently directed Jane into the bathroom. "It's all yours."

* * *

After getting dressed for the day, Daria went back out to the kitchen as Karen was cleaning up and putting her breakfast dishes in the washer. Karen slid the rack inside and closed the door. "Funny."

Daria poured a cup of coffee and asked, "What's funny?"

"How much we've changed in the last year since we both first 'slept' with our boyfriends."

Daria warmly thought of that night. "Jane's indoor beach birthday party at the BFAC dorm." Unable to travel back to Raft because of a winter storm, she and Michael had slept on lounge chairs in Jane's room. Karen and her boyfriend had a similar arrangement in an adjacent dorm room. "Those lounge chairs were not the most comfortable things to sleep on." 

Karen said, "And all we did was sleep." She stood and leaned against the counter. "But also…waking up next to Derek, I liked it."

Waking up clasping Michael's hand to her breast had created an unexpected bond and was a memory Daria treasured. "I have to admit, I enjoyed waking next to Michael." 

"Now, we're sleeping with them in every sense of the word."

Daria dumped a package of instant oatmeal into a bowl. "There was a time when I almost couldn't imagine a boy kissing me."

Karen began preparing sandwiches for her lunch. "And I didn't think anyone could stand me, long term. I guess we got lucky."

"I guess we did." Daria smiled. "And Jane's been lucky to hook up with Mack. Speaking of Jane, it's her birthday tomorrow. Between all that's happened lately, we haven't had a chance to plan anything."

"Why don't we surprise her tomorrow night? We can call CC and Nell and that crew and invite them over."

"Make sure we warn Mrs. Lyndon downstairs."

"Sounds like a plan." 

"Cake?" Daria asked.

Karen shrugged. "I don't have time to bake one. Sounds like Deli time. You know how I can smell after work; you better pick it up."

"Yeah. Are you sure working with the zoo's vet was a step up and not in it?" 

"I'm sure. I'd rather step in it from time to time than shovel it."

* * *

Michael stood in front of his open closet. A small box was in his hand and he stood with eyes closed and a slender smile on his face. A loud bump against the room door and a crash startled him out of his thoughts. He pushed the small box to the back of his closet shelf and closed the door just as the room door opened. Staggering, his roommate, Todd Baker, came in.

The tall, black man's eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses and his clothes looked like they'd been slept in. The corner of a beach towel stuck out from his improperly closed luggage. The burned out stump of a cigar hung from his mouth as he moved to his bed. "Hey, dude," Todd mumbled moments before dropping the luggage and falling face first onto the bed.

Michael raised an eyebrow and said, "It's about time you got back. Classes start today."

"They'll just have to do without me."

"So how was Florida?"

"Too much sun, too much booze, too much music and too many women. A man can only take so much."

"It's a rough job, but somebody's got to do it."

"Yeah. How was your trip?"

"Daria and I had a good time."

"I bet you did. Anyway, I'm sleeping in today. Don't wake me until tomorrow morning." Todd almost immediately started snoring. 

Michael gingerly reached down and picked up the cigar where it lay on the pillow edge. "We don't need you burning down the room."

* * *

Balancing a tray holding two burritos and drinks, plus a bowl of nachos with salsa, Michael worked through the crowd at Big Bean Burrito, one of the eateries just off the Raft campus.

"Glad you found us some seats," He said as he placed the tray down in front of Daria, who was reading the college newspaper, _The Mast._ "Any real news in the 'Rag Stand?'" he asked, referring to the paper's less than flattering nickname.

"The Dean of Liberal Studies suddenly resigned during spring break to take care of his chronically ill wife. An interim dean should be named today." 

"Somebody different to sign off on registration overrides." Michael started to bite into his lunch. Just before, he stopped and said, "Kind of cool that he'd do that for his wife, though."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." Daria leaned across the table and kissed him.

"Are you testing me?"

Daria tried to look almost innocent while she pulled a tape recorder from her pocket. "No…but you just won me ten bucks from someone in World Lit Two class. I'll buy the next pizza."

"Should I be flattered that you have such faith in me?"

"I'm flattered to be with someone who thinks like that."

* * *

After lunch, Daria had barely settled down at her workstation at the Raft University Press when the Editor in Chief, Dr. Killarny, entered with a large, balding man sporting a thin mustache.

Dr. Killarny said, "Everyone, your attention please."

The room quieted as the staff turned and/or stood in their cubicles to see them.

Dr. Killarny continued, "As most of you know, the Dean of Liberal Studies resigned last week. I have been named as the Interim Dean until a candidate search can be completed."

There was mixed clapping and yelling from the staff.

He motioned for silence. "I have grown to know and respect all of you. It has been a pleasure to work with everyone. Regrettably, my acceptance of the Interim Dean position means I cannot continue my duties here." 

Silence filled the room, disturbed by some low, sad murmurs. 

"Dr. Findlay will be my successor, starting tomorrow. Dr. Findlay has been with Raft for twenty-six years and has been editor for two major professional journals. Please give him a warm welcome."

The staff clapped, though some hesitancy was noticeable, particularly among some of the older employees.

Dr. Findlay stepped forward. "It will be a pleasure to continue my good colleague's work. I'm looking forward to a long and successful term as Editor-in-Chief."

* * *

Nearing five-thirty the next day, Daria saved the file she was proofreading and started to shut down her computer. Dr. Findlay stopped at her cubicle and said, "I hope you didn't have any plans tonight. We're a little short-handed and I need you to work until eight so we don't fall behind."

"I wouldn't mind a few extra hours, but I can't tonight. It's my roommate's birthday."

"I wasn't asking if you could work late tonight. I was telling you that your work hours are until eight o'clock."

"Dr. Findlay, I was supposed to pick up her cake on the way home." 

"You can still do that."

"Please, Dr…" 

"Young lady, don't argue."

Daria's shoulders drooped. "Yes, Dr. Findlay."

After he left the area, Daria called Michael's dorm room with her cell phone. 

"Hey," Todd answered.

"Hi, Todd. Can you leave a message for Michael?"

"Sure, Daria." 

"I have to work late tonight. Please ask him to pick up Jane's cake at Dottie's Deli and take it to my place. It'll be after eight-thirty before I get home."

"Ow, girl. What's going on?"

"We're short today and the new boss looks like he wants to make a good impression by not falling behind schedule."

"New bosses usually suck. Trying to make a name for themselves."

"Thanks for taking the message, Todd."

"Any time."

As soon as Daria closed the phone, Dr. Findlay said, "In the future, I would appreciate it if you limited your personal calls to break times."

* * *

When she got home, a single slice of cake remained on the table, along with half a dozen empty 2-liter soda bottles and a bowl containing a thin layer of chip crumbs. Seated around Jane in the living room were Michael, Karen, Derek, and two of Jane's friends from Boston Fine Arts College. CC's blue-dyed hair was cut shorter than the last time Daria had seen her, and Nell's arm crutches were painted high-gloss black with gold pinstripes.

Daria waved and said, "Sorry I'm late."

Jane said, "Michael said you had to work overtime. That's never happened before."

"My old boss was tapped as the temporary dean. I think the new guy wants to make a good impression. I'm sorry again, Jane."

"Hey, you couldn't help it. At least you got your other half to pick up the cake."

Michael had just reached Daria as Jane said the last. Daria hugged him and said, "Thanks."

"Any time. You sound tired."

"I just put in a six and a half hour day on top of a full day of class. I'm a bit tired, and I haven't had any chance to study tonight."

Karen said, "Hey, at least kill the cake, grab a soda and join us for a few minutes."

Daria released Michael. "I can do that." 

She filled a cup from the remaining soda bottle and grabbed the entire cardboard cake tray on her way to the living room. She sat cross-legged on the floor and started to aggressively consume the cake. "Damn, I didn't even have a chance to eat dinner." 

CC asked, "What was the big deal? It wasn't like you had a tour bus full of businessmen from some convention show up or something."

"I'm sure that's a sight to see," Jane said with a smirk.

"Hey, lots of fresh tippers at once, and usually trying to one-up each other on how much money they can afford to blow. The boss usually tries to get as many girls out as he can to get their money before they go somewhere else." 

Daria shook her head and felt a smile come forth. "No, nothing like that. Like I said, I think my new boss is trying to make a good impression. Although, I can't see how we'd be so far behind with only a couple of people out that he'd be worried."

* * *

_Again?_ Daria gripped the computer mouse tightly in frustration. She sighed and said, "At least that'll give me time to finish this manuscript and not have to worry about it when I come in Monday." 

Dr. Findlay slapped her back. "Now, that's the spirit I like to hear."

"Um, thanks," she half-heartedly replied.

After her boss walked away, Daria looked at the computer clock. "I get a break in half an hour, guess I'll call Michael then and tell him I'm working late. I hope he's not too disappointed."

* * *

Despite the cool weather the next morning, Jane wiped sweat from her face with a sweatshirt sleeve as she rested on the apartment's landing. She looked down at her stopwatch, still set at the time she'd completed her run. "Not bad. At least I won't embarrass myself next month."

She turned to go inside and collided with the door when if failed to open. She tried the doorknob. "Locked?" She fished her key from her running pack and opened the door. The apartment was dark and silent. "Oh, Michael must've stopped by to pick her up today."

Jane went to the bathroom and started running water in the tub. "Hate having the hot water heater in the basement." She stepped out and heard a rustle from Daria's room.

Curious, she peeked in and saw Daria just crawling out of bed. Jane said, "Wow, Morgendorffer. I've been up and ran a half marathon before you're awake? Anything wrong?" 

Daria shook her head to try to clear the fog. "Just tired after all the extra hours I put in at work this week on top of trying to get that term paper finished for World Lit."

"What is it with that new boss of yours? He had you working late what - three out of four days?"

"I don't know, but he's not making himself well-liked. Rumor has it a couple of the regular staff have applied for transfers to other departments. One student's already quit."

"Sounds like it might be time to start looking for something new."

"I could, maybe. I don't know. Otherwise, I still like the job. I get to read some fascinating books."

"And some pretentious crap…I've heard your complaints."

"Okay, I have to wade through the bottom of the academic food chain at times, but the good stuff makes up for it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm hoping he's just playing alpha male trying to establish his dominance. Then, once he feels secure, things will settle down again."

* * *

The microwave oven beeped at Daria and she pulled out her reheated dinner the next Monday evening. "Smells good." She took the plate to the table and sat down. "Jane, Karen, can I ask a favor?" 

"Sure," Karen said, lying on the sofa.

Jane said from her computer, "I owe you a couple."

"I found out today that I'm scheduled to work until eight or nine every night this week. Can I cook both dinners this weekend and have you two cover my days this week?"

Rolling over to look over the sofa back, Karen said, "I had Saturday, so it's a deal." 

"Unless you want an extra helping of my 'gormet' cooking," Jane said, intentionally mispronouncing gourmet. "I'm game."

"With all your running lately, also a bit gamey."

Jane stuck her head out of the door and smiled. "Okay, some of the old sarcasm's still there. I won't start looking for pods."

* * *

Working at his computer, Todd asked Michael, "Hey man, what's been up with you lately? It's Thursday and you haven't been out with Daria since Sunday. I don't think I've seen you go this long without seeing her." 

Michael looked up from the Introduction to Art History textbook he was studying. "She was scheduled to work late all week. We still manage to have lunch together."

"Ah-ha. I knew you couldn't go cold turkey this long."

"Why would I want to?"

"Okay, ya got me there. You must be getting antsy, still."

"Yeah. I was getting spoiled."

"Like that's a bad thing?"

"Hmm. No, not really. But it does make not seeing her harder."

"Any idea of how long these extra hours are gonna last for her?" 

Michael shook his head. "No. But we're hoping not long."

* * *

"Thanks for dinner, Daria," Jane called as she opened the door. "Hoping I can get this new dance club to hire Mystik Spiral for a gig or two and want to check it out."

Sitting at the table, Daria said, "You're just looking for an excuse to check it out anyway."

"Okay, but if I can get a second use out of it…"

Beside Daria, Michael said, "And get your brother to visit."

"Yeah, and you never call your sister either, I bet."

"No more than Daria calls hers."

Jane laughed and stepped out. "Not touching that one. Have fun."

Daria and Michael both said, "Bye," as Jane closed the door.

She leaned against him and kissed his shoulder, "Thanks for grabbing some movies."

He slid his chair over and softly put his arm around her. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you."

"So, what are you up to tonight? Swiss art film or low-budget slasher flick?"

"Kill 'em all."

"Slasher it is."

He popped the videotape into the VCR and started the playback. Once he'd sat on the sofa, Daria curled beside him and reached around his chest.

As the movie credits started, she said, "I hope you're not disappointed, but it looks like I'll have to work extra next week, too."

He sighed, "More?" 

"I'm sorry. I know it's a pain and I'm tempted to quit. But, I like the job, even if the boss is an ass at times." 

"From what you've said, all of the time."

"Most." Daria yawned. "Sorry."

"And I think he forgets that you're a student with the unthinkable habit of studying." 

"We should get past this rush soon and I'll go back to normal hours."

"Is it worth it? You're running yourself pretty hard."

"I still enjoy most of what I'm proofreading. I know this schedule isn't the easiest thing to deal with. I hope you understand."

"Not really. But until I do, I'll take your word for it."

"Thanks." 

"Welcome." Michael pointed to the screen. "Ooh. They're not wasting any time, that's already one quart of fake blood."

"Joe-Bob says check it out."

"I can't believe Karen got us hooked on that."

* * *

Daria and Michael faced each other over a booth table at the Buffet Raft. Daria squeezed his hand and said, "Things have been hectic, but I've gotten to where they don't seem so bad. Thanks for being here." 

He smiled and squeezed her hand in return. "Since I love you, you're worth it."

"I love you." Daria checked her watch and frowned before polishing off her lunch. Hurried, she stood up, saying, "I have to get going." She leaned down and kissed Michael. "See you tomorrow." 

"Yeah, tomorrow," He said as she disengaged and started out of the restaurant. Under his breath Michael added, "I wish it was tonight."

Walking with deliberate purpose, Daria was soon gone, leaving him along at the booth. Seeing a group of students hovering near the booth, Michael sighed, picked up the paper trash from the table and piled it on a tray. He'd barely moved away before they had descended upon the open booth like a flock of vultures. After stopping by a trash can to empty the tray and place it on top, Michael stepped out to the busy sidewalk.

Michael checked his watch. "Time for me to get ready for work, too." 

At the signal, he crossed the street to campus and walked along the edge of the Quad to his dorm, Milton Hall. Once in his room, Michael changed into a Park Service uniform and got ready for the afternoon. A check of his alarm clock showed he had a few minutes before he had to leave.

On his desk was a framed photo of Daria. It was a semi-candid shot taken by Jane that showed Daria peacefully relaxed. "I'm worried about you," he told the image and gently picked it up. "And I miss the time we spend together."

* * *

The editorial office's windows darkened to black as the sun faded. Inside, Daria and several other student employees concentrated on their work. She was drawn into the manuscript on her monitor. Well written and concise, it wasn't simply a recycled dissertation; it was a complete revision that made the subject matter presentable and understandable to a wide audience. It was wonderful to read and she was enjoying it. 

Daria jumped when she heard Dr. Findlay say, "I like how you concentrate on your work."

Recovering, she muttered, "Oh, um, thanks."

He stood behind her chair. "It's great to see such enthusiasm. Keep it up." He gave her a brief grin and walked to the next cubicle.

_I hate when he does that._ She looked back to the computer screen, trying to find her place. _Dammit, it's a lot easier to "keep it up" when you don't come around breaking it._ She looked at the computer clock. _Just another hour or so._

Several minutes later, her blonde officemate leaned back and whispered, "If I didn't need the money, I'd be out of here so fast…"

Daria whispered back, "Shelly, if I didn't want the experience, I'd be right behind you."

Shelly yawned. "At least you seem to be adapting better than most of us."

"I concentrate on what I enjoy about the work and ignore the parts I don't. Though I must admit, lately, I've really had to concentrate on the parts I like…"

"And here I thought you were just brownnosing."

"Not a chance."

"That's a relief. So, you concentrate on the good stuff, eh?"

"It's helped to get me through a lot of things before. Like high school." 

"I can't knock it if it works for you. Where'd you learn?"

"I can't really say. It's almost like I've always been able to."

"Lucky."

* * *

Standing just inside the office door, Daria listened to her cell phone's voicemail. Quinn's voice said, "Hey Daria," followed by a giggle. "Must be on a date with Michael. Give me a call when you can. Bye."

Daria closed out the voicemail and entered the speed-dial for her sister's phone. After several rings, Quinn answered, "Hello."

"Hi, Quinn. Sorry I missed your call. The phone was turned off."

"I hope you had fun," Quinn said.

"I was working late," Daria said as she left the building and walked to the parking lot along a well-lit path, "and my new boss doesn't like to hear cell phones going off."

"Ouch."

"A bit of an inconvenience, but not too bad."

"Daria, it has to be almost nine your time. Isn't your first class at like, eight in the morning?"

"Yeah, Quinn. It's been a long day, but it's not a problem."

"Gawd, you almost sounded like Mom there."

"Did you want me to call back for insults?"

"Oh, no Daria. I just hadn't heard from you lately and was worried."

"Nothing to worry about; I've just been extra busy with work." 

"Uh-huh."

"I should've called. I'm sorry."

"But you'll do better, right?"

"I promise."

Quinn was silent for a couple seconds. "Uh, okay. I'll hold you to that."

"How are you doing?" 

"Good. We finished spring break here last weekend. Daria, the California beaches are so nice. And I had so much fun." 

"And the attention you got in your new swimsuit didn't enter into it."

"Well…maybe a little. Hey, I got Fran to come out to the beach with me, too. It's the first time she'd been to one since her accident. She was nervous at first, but seemed to enjoy it."

"You've really taken her under your wing, haven't you?"

"She's become my closest friend."

"So much that you talked her into pledging to your sorority."

"That's right. We're planning on being roommates at the chapter house next year."

"I'm glad you have found a good friend like that." Daria neared her black sedan. "Here's my car and I don't want to talk while driving. I promise to call you later, okay?"

"Um…okay." 

"Bye."

"Bye."

Daria closed the phone and slipped it into her jacket pocket. "Don't have time during the week, but I'll call her this weekend."

It took only a few moments for Daria to unlock her car, get in and lock the door back. Raft wasn't known for a lot of crime, but Daria knew it was prudent to minimize being alone at night. After she was on the road, Daria started talking to herself. "Let's see, about twenty or twenty five minutes to get home. Grab a quick bite and I should be able to get in a couple hours of studying before midnight." 

Seated on her bed in a Pepperhill dormitory, Quinn closed her phone and turned to a small, dark-haired girl seated on the matching bed. Quinn said, "That was very creepy."

Fran asked, "What was creepy?"

"A couple times there…she really sounded like Mom."

* * *

Late Saturday morning, Karen was reading the latest email from her brother and laughing. "Terry, you and a digital camera are a dangerous combination. You've already sent at least thirty or forty pictures of Wayne and he isn't even a month old."

The doorbell rang and she went to the door. After checking the peephole, Karen opened it and said, "Good morning, Michael. What's all that?"

He had a bed table folded under one arm, carried two foil-covered styrofoam plates in his hands and had a small thermos hanging from a finger. "Hey, Karen. Breakfast for Daria."

Concerned, Karen said, "Please tell me you didn't cook it."

Michael stepped in and Karen closed the door behind him. He said, "Are you kidding? I don't want to poison her. I got some takeout from Hungry Colonist."

"Much safer."

"I wanted to do something to relax her after a long week." 

"You're not gonna try to talk about her hours, are you?" 

He shook his head. "I know better than to go up against her stubborn streak."

"Good boy."

"You can tell she's her mother's daughter."

"Daria would kill if she heard you say that."

"I'm hoping it will remain in confidence."

"I won't say a word." 

"Meaning, you have something to hold over me." 

"And I won't forget it."

He softly laughed and placed the items on the dining table. "This way, I get to spend a little more time with her that I haven't had during the week."

"You're spoiled. You know that, don't you?" 

Michael nodded. "Completely. Can I grab some real dishes and heat this up?"

"Are you safe to do that?" 

"I can handle a microwave oven."

"You're the one who told us about the 'ramen noodles incident.' I'm still supervising."

* * *

As Michael passed her, carrying the tray of reheated food, Karen said, "Don't forget that I'm still going to be here until Jane returns from running and gets ready to go. So keep it down."

Seeing Michael's blush, she teased, "I'll tell Daria you're cute when you do that."

He ignored the comment as much as possible and went down the hall to Daria's room, where Michael placed the tray on the floor. Quietly, he opened the door and looked inside. Semi-fetal, Daria faced the door with her head on a pillow held in her arms. In the hollow between her arms and bent knees, Daria's black cat Bump slumbered, the feline's head resting against the young woman.

Still quiet, he moved the table near the bed and went back to close the door. Bump stirred and opened one eye a slit to watch him. Michael held a finger to his lips and gave the cat a whispered, "Shh."

Warily, Bump continued to watch Michael as he kissed along Daria's jaw and up toward her ear. One of his hands reached around her and Michael drew his fingertips along Daria's back as he kissed her earlobe. She inhaled, leaned her head back and smiled. Daria opened her eyes and said, "Hi," before kissing him.

Bump scolded them with a sharp meow, stood, and stretched by strongly arching her back. Daria moved a hand over to scratch her head. A loud purr greeted the attention. 

Michael said, "I think somebody's jealous." 

"She's been a little neglected lately. Like somebody else I know."

"I've missed you."

Daria sat up and put on her glasses. "Trust me, you're much better company than Dr. Findlay."

Bump meowed again and planted herself on Daria's lap.

"I should hope." Michael stepped aside and lifted the table. "Breakfast?"

That produced one of the deeply warm smiles Michael cherished. "There is a reason I love you."

* * *

When she was done with breakfast, Michael placed the tray on the floor and sat down next to Daria, wrapping his arms around her. She held his arms and leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Mmm. Very."

Following a kiss to her forehead, Michael said, "You're welcome to stay like this as long as you want."

Daria brought his hand up and kissed it. "How about all day?"

"Only if you insist." 

She shuddered when the cell phone rang. "Dammit." 

Michael looked at it, too. "We could ignore it." 

Daria softly pulled his arms open. "If I deal with it now, maybe they'll go away for the rest of the day."

"Let's hope."

"If they know what's good for them." She opened the phone and answered, "Hello?"

"Hi," Quinn responded.

"Hey, Quinn. What's up?" 

"Well…you said you'd call me."

"Quinn, I've been busy."

"That's what you said Wednesday." 

"I was."

"Well, are you busy now?" 

Daria smirked. "I'm in bed with Michael. We just finished…"

"Ewwww. Daria, I don't want any details."

"So I have a couple minutes." 

"Uhhhh, okay."

"Well…" 

"Um…Daria, tell me what you think. I might've found what I'm looking for as a kind of minor…but it sounds really weird."

"I'm listening."

"Well…you know how I want to try work with people with scars and stuff so others don't freak out."

"Yeah."

"The closest I could find was Cinematic Makeup."

"Actually, that makes sense. You will learn a lot of specialist makeup techniques. I'm sure you can also get some good background on prosthetics. Good choice."

"Thanks. I was worried after getting some really weird looks from my faculty advisor." 

"I told you before, an advisor's like a diaper. All over your ass and usually full of shit."

Quinn laughed. "Well, that's the big news here. Besides work, what's up in Boston?"

"That's about it."

"Come on."

"And class, and studying."

"Daria!" 

"Quinn."

"Ugh! Work and school? Has Michael at least taken you some place interesting?"

"Work and school have taken up a lot more of my time lately. We've mostly seen each other over lunch, but we're hoping to try to get out some today."

"Stop that. You're starting to sound like Mom."

"What do you mean?" Daria said with some irritation.

"Work, that's all you seem to be doing. Listening to you is like listening to Mom all those years."

"I admit I have been working more lately." She smiled at Michael and kissed him. "Though I have had some diversion."

Quinn heard the kiss. "Daria, that's even spookier. Work and sex. Hearing that…brr."

Daria gritted her teeth. "Quinn." 

"It's just…you're supposed to be out living more. You know, parties and stuff. I mean, I know you have Michael, but there's supposed to be more…"

Daria snapped, "What's your problem?"

Michael jumped at the sudden change in her voice.

Quinn stammered, "W-what?"

"What is your problem? Dammit!"

"Daria…I was just…worried you weren't having fun."

"Quinn, I don't have to follow your concept of fun! I don't have to go to parties! I'm doing what I want to do in college. I'm immersed in learning. I even get to read and learn at work. Quinn, these people are paying me to do what I like to do! Yeah, I've had to work extra and the new boss is a jerk. It's still worth it!" Daria reached over and clasped Michael's hand. "And I have somebody sweet enough to bring me breakfast this morning. I'm sure you're happy with your life. Great! Don't try to tell me how to be happy in mine!" 

"Daria, I thought…"

Daria registered the surprise on Michael's face and started to calm down. She said into the phone, "You thought that you were helping."

Contrite, Quinn said, "Um, yeah. I'm sorry, but you're my sister." 

That deflated the last of Daria's temper. "I'll never forget you're my sister." She took a breath and said, "You were right, college is about living more. But we don't have to go out and live the same things. We're doing new things that agree with who we are."

"Um, I guess."

"Look, you have to admit what you've essentially done is to give Fran a makeover and you want to learn how to do that for more people." 

"When you put it that way…"

"Quinn, you found something good out of your old habits and you're working with them. And, you want to learn new things based on what you already like."

"Yeah. But, I know you like reading and stuff, but the hours…"

"Are less than some of the non-traditional students I know. A woman in my Intro to Special Needs Education is a single mother of three who works full time on a night shift."

"Wow."

"Yeah. A lot of us are amazed at her dedication." Daria sifted through her thoughts for several seconds before saying, "You were right Quinn, about me sounding like Mom."

"It really sounded weird."

"This may sound weirder, but I'm glad I picked that up from her. And be careful, it may be hiding in you somewhere, too."

"Bite your tongue, Daria." 

"Don't knock it. You may find it useful, like I have, and it will help even more later. And…it's given me a little more insight about Mom."

"What do you mean?"

"I understand more of how and why she worked so hard. She overdid it, but when does Mom not overdo something?"

Quinn laughed. "Never."

"Take it a little easier on her. Part of all her work was her desire to be successful and because she loved being a lawyer, just like I love books. But, part of her work was for us."

"Um…yeah, you're right."

Jane knocked on the door and stuck her head inside the room. "Hey, kids. Karen and I are about to head out. You're now free to do whatever…wherever you want."

Daria moved the phone away from her mouth. "Thanks, Jane. See you two later." 

"Later." Jane waved and closed the door.

Shocked, Quinn said, "Did Jane just walk in on you two?"

"She stuck her head in the door."

"With you two on the bed, um…"

Daria chuckled. "Oh, that. Quinn, I'd just finished eating breakfast when you called."

"Oh. Not…?"

"No. But now that Jane and Karen are gone…"

"Okay. I get the hint. Daria, I'm sorry I got you mad."

Daria sighed. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. Let's face it; at first I didn't want to accept that I had that much of Mom in me. Quinn, thanks for being concerned."

"We're even. I'll let you two get back to…whatever you wanted to get back to. Bye, Daria."

"Bye, Quinn."

Daria turned the cell phone off and placed it on the nightstand. She turned to Michael and said, "So, besides breakfast, did you have any plans for today?"

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

October 2005


	14. Run Jane, Run

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the Forty-first story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Run Jane, Run**

Touches of spring green poked through the drab grays and browns of Boston Common's grass and trees as Jane Lane ran by on a Saturday morning. The black-haired woman's pace and breathing were even and moderate, just right for long distance running. Scattered around the common were several other runners, each in their own world of thought.

_I wonder how many of them will be with me a week from Monday?_

Having already completed several miles, the warmth from her muscles drove away the morning chill, leaving her comfortable in her regular running shorts and shirt.

Completing her circuit of the Commons, Jane picked up the red brick line to follow the Freedom Trail. Two trips up and down the trail and around the common were almost 13 miles, half a marathon. She wove her way past tourists and other pedestrians on the trail, exchanged waves with several employees of shops along the way, and continued to revel at the sights of the trail, from the State House to Faneuil Hall, the Old North Church and ending at the Charlestown Naval Yard on the north side of the harbor.

_Sometimes, I wish things had gone better back when I was on the track team in high school. I might've gotten a track scholarship if I'd stayed with it. But, it wouldn't have been to attend BFAC. I guess things worked out better, but sometimes, you gotta wonder._

Almost surprised by how quickly she got there, Jane neared her turn-around point in the shadow of the USS Constitution's tall masts.

"Good morning, Jane!" a voice called.

She changed paths to see a red-headed man in a park service uniform wrestling a filled bag out of a trash can. She stopped near him, running in place. "Hey, Michael. Letting Daria sleep in today?"

Michael Fulton said, "She said she had some…studying to do. I've got the morning cleanup shift here and I'll be over to see her after lunch. Are you going to be around?"

"I have some studying to do, also. Between running and work, I've gotten a little behind on stuff."

"You better get going then. Good luck."

"Thanks. See you later."

Jane pushed forward and resumed her pace. _He almost said something he wasn't supposed to…what is that friend of mine up to this time?_

* * *

"Thanks for meeting us like this, Mrs. Marquez," Daria Morgendorffer told the pleasant woman behind the office desk. 

"Please, call me Bel, everyone else does," the Children's Activity Coordinator for Boston Children's Hospital told the three young women in her office. "So, what have you got?"

Daria said, "CC, please show her what you two came up with."

The one with blue hair and small, oblong framed glasses unfolded a t-shirt and placed it on the desk, along with a pencil drawing of the artwork. "I worked out the design and Nell airbrushed it."

She indicated the third woman, a brunette who tapped one of her arm crutches against CC's leg. Nell said, "CC, you also did the silk-screening on it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," CC said with a shrug.

"Now I see why Jane's one of your friends," Bel said in response to the women's banter. She examined the shirt and smiled with appreciation. "I like it, but I'm not hoisting my butt on my own petard this time. I need to run it past the system and see if it flies."

"Thanks," Daria told her and placed a sheet of paper on the desk. "Please call my cell phone when you have an answer. If it's after lunch, you'll have to leave a message. I'll get back to you on my next break or when I get off work."

* * *

The following Monday, Bel looked up upon hearing a throat being cleared. Mrs. Jamison, a woman in her mid-thirties with stylish, short black hair, leaned on the doorframe. "Your Ms. Lane sure is a little busybody, isn't she?" 

"I wish I had her energy. Is there a problem with the design?"

Mrs. Jamison chuckled. "No, there isn't. She's good to go, and so is the shirt. The marathon's always positive press."

"Great. The children are going to love it."

Mrs. Jamison looked down at the floor momentarily, and then at Bel. "I wish we could bottle her energy and enthusiasm."

Following a hearty laugh, Bel said, "Or her friends. We could make a fortune."

"How often have we agreed on anything?"

"Rarely. Let's not spoil it."

* * *

As she left work, Daria stopped just outside the building door. She pulled a cell phone from her jacket pocket and checked for messages, nodding and smiling as she heard Bel's. "Looks like we're on." She looked over her shoulder at the Raft University Press. "I'm glad we're finally caught up and I didn't have to stay late." 

Walking through the staff parking lot, Daria first called her other roommate at work. "Hi, may I speak with Karen Myerson? Thanks, I can wait."

Daria was only a couple parking spaces away from her car when Karen answered, "Hi, this is Karen."

"Hey, it's Daria. We just got the go-ahead from Ms. Marquez. She'll find an excuse to keep Jane around a little extra to give us some time to get there. Can you make it?"

"After having to work through the plotting session last weekend, you know I'm in."

"Okay. I'll probably be giving Nell and CC a ride over, so we'll meet in the lobby."

"I'll be there."

"See ya." Daria closed the connection and got into her car, closing and locking the door.

She dialed the next number and CC answered. "Residence assistant. How can I help you?"

"You can help by telling Nell that the show's on for today."

"Hey Daria," CC said with relief. "Get me the hell out of here."

"Need a ride?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

"I'll be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Just come straight to my room; I'll warn the front desk you're on the way."

"Thanks."

Daria closed the phone and started her car. "Let's hope the traffic isn't fouled up any more than usual."

* * *

"Stupid bean counters," Jane grumbled as she sat cross-legged on the floor of the art supply room. She counted boxes of craft paper on a lower shelf and recorded the number on a notepad. That section complete, she scooted along the floor to the next section and started counting canisters of paint powder. 

"Jane," Bel said as she stuck her head in the door.

"Almost done," Jane said, looking up.

"Come out here a moment, please."

"Can it wait a couple minutes?"

Children's giggles came from behind Bel and Jane noticed her trying to motion with a hand to keep quiet. Curious, Jane bounced up and stepped to the door. "You've got something up your sleeve."

Smirking, Bel said, "I'm not alone." She stepped aside to show Daria, Karen, CC and Nell waiting with a room full of children from the art program.

Surprised, Jane said, "What's up?"

Bel produced the running shirt from a nearby table and held it up for viewing. "You asked if the program could sponsor you in the marathon."

"Cool!" she said with joy while eyeing her friends. "And what are those goons doing here?"

Bel explained, "After the public info office signed off on sponsoring you, I called your roommates for ideas on a shirt, and they brought in your friends from school to make it."

Jane took the red shirt. The hospital's name was printed high across the top and pictures of children drawing and painting were done around the perimeter. The basic outlines were silk-screened and colors were added by airbrush. The center was blank to make room for the racer number.

"Um…wow!" Jane sputtered, astonished by the support. She smiled and crouched down to child level. "Thanks, you little monsters."

A happy chorus came back to her from the kids. Jane stood and went to her friends. "And thanks to you guys."

Daria shrugged and half-smiled. "Just making up for not supporting you on the track team. But you still have to promise not to splash mud on me."

"Okay, deal," Jane said.

"If it gets you home smelling worse than me after work," Karen said, pushing on Jane's shoulder, "I'll encourage it."

CC joined in. "Okay, I also used it as a grade in Printing Techniques. But, I figure if you can put up with me as long as you did as a roommate, I should do something."

"Well, some of us did it because we like you," Nell added.

Jane looked back into the storeroom. "So that inventory was busy work to keep me here?"

Bel winked at Jane. "Well, it needed to be done…but yeah."

Jane smiled and looked at all five with narrowed eyes. "Just remember…payback."

* * *

After dropping CC and Nell off at the BFAC dorms, Daria was the last to get home to the South Boston apartment. Looking worried, Jane waited at the table as Daria entered and held up a letter. "Sorry to be the bearer of possibly bad news. Mrs. Lyndon signed for it and dropped it off when Karen and I got home." 

Daria accepted the letter and read the return address: Lawndale County Assistant District Attorney, Kyle Sullivan. She sat next to Jane. "It's not your fault."

Daria opened the letter and read the short note.

**Dear Ms. Morgendorffer,**

**This letter is to inform you that Charles Ruttheimmer III has accepted a plea bargain with the District Attorney's office in relation to his criminal acts directed toward you and other associated charges. He has agreed to plead guilty to one count each of Distribution of Adult Material to a Minor, Criminal Stalking, and Breaking and Entering. In addition, he will plead guilty to forty-seven counts of Illegally Duplicating Copyrighted Material for Resale. He will be fined $100 for each copyright violation. For the remaining counts, he will be remanded to psychiatric care until a court-appointed board of physicians recommends his release, for a time not to exceed five years. Upon release from psychiatric care, he will be placed on probation for three years.**

**His allocution is scheduled for 1:00 PM, Monday, April 16, if you wish to be present for the proceedings.**

**Sincerely, **

**Kyle Sullivan  
Assistant District Attorney**

Daria took time to let the information settle before speaking. "Upchuck's made a plea deal."

"Good, bad, or otherwise?"

"Psychiatric care for up to five years and three years probation, plus a forty-seven hundred dollar fine for the porno tapes."

"With what he was doing, I suppose he could use the shrinks. But I'm still worried."

"Me, too. But I hope the doctors help him. Both for his sake, and for my peace of mind."

"Oh?"

"Doing something about his obsession is the best long-term solution for my safety. Nothing is guaranteed, but if the treatment works, he won't be interested in following me. Just locking an offender up may increase his obsession, making things more dangerous when he gets out."

"Ah, I see."

"For my own sake, I want to be there, but…"

"But?"

"It's next Monday."

"Oh." Jane scratched her head and said, "Bel said she'd try to get a tape of me running for the kids to see; I'll get a copy for you."

"Are you sure?"

Jane placed a hand on Daria's shoulder. "I know you're behind what I'm doing. I'm behind what you need to do. Go."

* * *

Daria knocked on the sturdy oak office door while working to suppress her apprehension. 

"Come in," a voice within called, so Daria opened the door and stepped forward.

Seated behind his large desk, her boss, Dr. Findlay said, "You're in early today."

"I was wondering if I could schedule some extra work to make up for taking next Monday off."

"Why do you need the time off?"

"To be at the courthouse in Lawndale, Maryland."

"Are you charged with something? Have you been summoned?"

"No. but…" Daria frowned and pulled the letter from Mr. Sullivan out of her bookbag, turning it over in her hand. "It's a sentencing hearing…"

Dr. Findlay watched the emotions pull at Daria's face and quickly decided. "You don't need to explain. You have Monday, and Tuesday, if you need it. Make up the hours when you can."

Surprised, Daria said, "Thank…you."

He watched the reaction and cracked a momentary smile. "I'm not clueless. I push everyone hard, but I also recognize when an employee needs some time. You need it."

Daria nodded and put the letter away.

* * *

"Why don't I just invite Derek over to stay so we can have a full house?" Karen said, half pouting, as she watched Mack MacKenzie enter the apartment and Jane close the door behind her boyfriend. 

"Um, am I coming into the middle of something?" Mack asked.

"She's just being a little grumpy because Derek's been gone all weekend and won't be back until late tonight," Jane said.

Michael came out of Daria's room, saying, "Good to see you again."

Karen hiked a thumb toward Daria, beside Michael. "All ya'll get to sleep nice and cozy tonight. Hrumph."

"Good to see everyone." Mack then said to Jane, "I'm still confused; is Michael staying here?"

She answered, "He and Daria are leaving at five to go to Lawndale. Upchuck's in court tomorrow."

"Oh, well, good luck, Daria."

"Thanks, Mack," Daria said with a nod.

Mack said to Karen, "If things are making you uncomfortable…"

Karen laughed and shook her head. "I'm just giving them a hard time. Don't worry about it. Besides, Jane's brother and his fiancé are stopping by to take over the living room. From what I hear, you don't want to share a room with them."

"Ah. I should've guessed you were teasing, since you can put up with both of them. It'll be interesting to see Trent and Lindy someplace other than the Zon."

* * *

As soon as the door opened, Jane hugged her brother. "Glad you could make it." 

"Hey, Janey. I figured someone from the family should be here."

"I can always count on you." She released Trent and hugged the blonde woman beside him. "Hi, Lindy."

"Jane, thanks for putting us up."

"No problem. You're here to watch me run myself stupid. Come on in and get settled."

Trent and Lindy faced more greetings as they entered the apartment. Soon, everyone was gathered in the living room, chatting and relaxing. Regrettably, things ended too soon as Daria and Michael exited to prepare for a 4:00 AM wakeup, followed by Jane and Mack, so Jane could get a full night's sleep before the race. The perennial early-riser Karen followed soon after, leaving Trent and Lindy to prepare their air mattress on the living room floor.

Lindy was stretching a sheet over the mattress as Trent put away the air pump. He stopped and looked across the room at the hallway that led to Daria and Jane's rooms. "Whoa."

"What's wrong?" Lindy inquired.

"Mack's sleeping with my little sister…and Michael's sleeping with Daria."

"They seem like good guys. You're not going to go all big brother on us, are you?"

"Nah. Just, seems like I should be, but I don't know, I'm not."

"Hey, we were together for a couple months before Jane moved up here. She didn't have any problem with that. She's a big girl, now."

"Yeah." Trent turned to Lindy. "She is old enough to take care of herself."

Lindy crawled over and put her arm around his chest. "Your little sisters have grown up."

Trent leaned against her. "They have."

* * *

Michael drank from his mug of coffee and set it down on the kitchen counter. "You realize, I wouldn't do this for just anybody." 

Balancing a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other, Daria said, "And you're not going to let me forget it, are you?"

"There's one thing you can do for me to call it even," Michael said with a warm smile as he moved her bowl to the counter.

"Oh? What's that?"

He lightly kissed Daria while holding her. "Even."

"Don't hold me too long like that, or I'll drift back off to sleep."

Softly laughing, Michael handed Daria her cup of coffee. "That would be embarrassing."

"Trading off driving will make this trip a lot easier. I appreciate you coming with."

"My pleasure. I can take over more of the driving if you want more time to vent about this guy."

"I ranted like my father a bit last night, didn't I?"

"I could hear the family resemblance."

"You did some choice ranting yourself. And, you're not using it as an excuse to avoid my driving. I may be a little cautious about dodging through traffic for your taste, but I get there."

He scooped the last of the cereal from his bowl. "Dad used to say that long distance car trips were the real test of a relationship. If you can survive the different driving styles, map reading skills, and bladder sizes, you can survive the bigger stuff."

She dryly said, "What a lovely perspective."

"You have to admit…"

"Yeah, it makes a practical kind of sense. How did you end up with such mutant parents?"

"I think it was something in the water."

Daria finished her cereal and placed the dirty dishes in the washer. "About ready?"

Michael stirred sugar and milk into two travel mugs of coffee. "As soon as I close these up."

"Thanks. Try to be quiet. I know Trent could sleep through Hannibal's elephants going by, but I don't know how light a sleeper Lindy is."

Daria cut the kitchen light off and they made their way across the dining room to the door and out onto the landing. She held Michael's arm as they went down the stairs to her car. "This is going to be a long day."

* * *

Hearing noise in the kitchen, Lindy shuffled to the door. "Karen?" 

"Hey, good morning," the young blonde said brightly. "Want some breakfast?"

"Jane warned us you were a morning person. And thank you, breakfast would be nice."

Karen quickly had bacon frying and two eggs ready. "How do you like them?"

"Like what?"

"Your eggs."

"Oh, um, fried, I guess."

"Sunny side up?"

"Sure."

"Coffee's in the pot, cups are in the cabinet over it. What about Trent?"

"He won't be awake for a couple hours." Lindy fumbled with a cup and poured coffee into it before adding five spoonfuls of sugar.

"Want a little sugar rush with your caffeine?"

Lindy nodded.

"I'll make him some scrambled eggs; they heat in the microwave better."

"Thanks. From both of us."

Karen asked, "Are you excited about your wedding?"

"When I'm not going insane."

"Planning headaches?"

"I may have to kill my mother. I'd already have if it wasn't for my Maid of Honor, Quinn."

Karen grinned. "Watching Daria and Jane getting fitted for bridesmaid dresses should be fun."

Lindy rolled her eyes. "That's the easy part. Getting Trent's band fitted for tuxes…that's gonna be a challenge."

"From what I remember of them…I bet."

"Jane's excited about the race."

"That's her. Jump in with both feet for total immersion."

* * *

The angry electronic buzz coming into one of Jane's ears clashed with the muted sound of Mack's heartbeat in the other. She lifted her head from his chest and growled at the alarm clock. 

Holding her to him, Mack opened one eye and said, "Are you going to start gnawing on me or something?"

Jane's hand reached out and grabbed the clock in her fist, shutting off the buzzer. She gave him a lopsided smirk and said, "Only if we had more time."

"There's always after."

"Like I'm going to have the energy then."

"How about if I tuck you in and massage your legs?"

"That, I'll take."

A little later, Mack stepped into the dining room, where Lindy was finishing her breakfast. "Morning."

Lindy looked up, more awake than before. "Hi, Mack."

Pulling a book bag over her shoulders, Karen came in from her room. "Good morning. Mack, I made you and 'herself' some eggs and bacon, with hash browns so she can grab some extra carbs. I have to get to class, but I'll come back here to guide you, Trent and Lindy to the race."

Mack shook his head. "Hi. Bye."

"See ya later." Karen was out of the door and tromping down the steps before Jane came out.

Jane yawned and said, "Thank God they don't run the marathon first thing in the morning."

Lindy nodded toward Jane and said to Mack, "Lanes are not morning people."

* * *

Mack steered his red sports car to the edge of the crowd around Hopkinton Common and stopped. The small town west of Boston was alive with competitors, friends, family, press and onlookers. Mack said, "I better let you out here to register, and then try to find a place to park somewhere in town." 

In her red running shirt and black shorts, Jane nodded and opened the car door. "I'll wait for you on this side of the runners' corral."

After Jane closed the door, Mack asked, "How many did you say were in this?"

"Last I heard, about fifteen thousand."

"Wow, no wonder this little town is overrun."

"I hope everyone remembered their deodorant."

"Be back as soon as I can."

Mack eased away and Jane squirmed through the milling onlookers to registration and joined one of several efficiently moving lines segregated alphabetically by competitor's last name. It didn't take long for Jane to reach the table. She presented her ID and confirmation, saying "Hi, Jane Lane."

The young man fanned through a box of packets and stopped, backing up several before pulling one out. "Jane Lane. " He popped the envelope open and removed a racing number. "Lucky owner of number nine-seven-three-three. Start forming up at eleven and the women start at eleven-thirty. Hope you have a good race."

Jane peeled the backing from the number placard and stuck it onto the blank space of her shirt.

The guy held out his hand for the waste paper. "I can take that for you."

"Thanks."

Jane stepped past and started stretching as she walked to the edge of the start corral. "It's a good day to run."

* * *

"Your psychological battery charger," Michael said from the passenger seat of Daria's car as she parked in front of Pizza Prince. 

Daria sighed slightly and shut the car off. "We made it without killing each other, though I wasn't sure if you were trying to do us in near New York City."

"Sorry, old high-speed heavy traffic habits. I'd have thought driving in Boston would've gotten you used to it."

"How often do we go that fast in Boston?"

"Hmm. Good point."

"I'll take that leg of the trip next time. Avoid arguments."

"Agreed. And I'll keep an eye on the traffic direction signs."

Daria looked at her hands. "Sorry about that."

Michael nudged her toward the eatery. "Why don't we forget the drive and get pizza?"

"Deal."

Seated at a booth after picking up their orders, Daria leaned back and allowed the ambience to relax her mind. "Jane should be starting soon."

* * *

Jane leaned over the flagged border rope and hugged Mack, kissing him. When they parted, Mack said, "Good luck." 

"Thanks for everything. You have my permission to kick Trent in the butt if he's not awake when you get there."

"I get the feeling that Lindy will make sure I don't have to."

"Probably. Don't mess around, even with a parking pass for runner pickup, you'll have a hell of a time if you wait. And don't scratch the paint job."

"I won't. The starter's raising the pistol; I'll see you in a couple hours." Mack gave her a quick kiss and stepped back as the pistol fired.

The mass of runners started forward like a giant organism, slowly flowing down the street from the Common on the road to Boston. Jane felt uncomfortable in the crush and longed for the pack to spread, to allow her to set a comfortable pace and drop into her own world.

* * *

Just outside of town, the route became almost rural. The two-lane road, Rt. 135, comfortably sloped downhill as the runners started to spread out, allowing Jane to relax and enjoy the scenery. A few curves and short, gentle rises spotted the course as she ran through the landscape of fields, trees and scattered homes. _I need to get out here when there isn't such a crowd._

By the outskirts of the next small town, Ashland, Jane had acquired her chosen pace and was enjoying the total experience. The first important hill of the race faced her in town, making her shift some thought to consciously maintaining her pace. With a little extra push, her legs responded without fail and soon she was over the crest, where a road sign read: Boston 22 mi. Jane laughed to herself and thought, _I'm just getting started._

Past the town, the gentle downward slope continued through more semi-rural countryside, something surprising this close to a major city. By then, the runners were comfortably spaced around Jane. Some were moving faster and passing, some slower and falling behind. Less than fifteen minutes later, Jane passed the train station in Framingham and felt an added tingle from the growing crowd.

On the long, flat straights that followed, Jane fought the urge to pick up more speed. Already, some of the early passers had dropped back, feeling the error of too fast, too soon. Jogging through the watching crowds in Natick, Jane noted the passing of mile marker ten and checked her watch.

"Seventy minutes. Good," she told herself. That small bit of information brought out a smile on her face. She'd maintained her pacing and still felt strong. A good sign at that point in the race.

The crowd in Natick was larger again, the people cheering all the runners. This time, the enthusiasm was infectious and Jane bounced up her speed. It wasn't until she was past the town that she noticed she was passing other runners. Jane mentally kicked herself and willed her legs to slow down.

* * *

Karen traced the red line drawn on a city map and said, "This looks weird as hell, but it'll get you to the parking area with fewer headaches." 

Mack accepted the map and put it in his shirt pocket. "Now let's hope I don't make any wrong turns."

"Well, that'll be your problem. But I would advise against it, unless you want to face Jane's wrath."

"I'll be extra careful. Speaking of careful, are you sure about you and them riding the bus?"

"Positive. Without a pass, we can't park anywhere near Copley Square. By this time, even Raft's parking lots are full. This town virtually shuts down on marathon day and tries to park. The bus is our only sensible option. Besides, we can't get everyone in my truck."

"You know better than I would, and I have to agree about the truck. I'll see you at the reception area."

"We'll be there, don't worry."

One eye still closed, Trent wandered over from eating breakfast. "Ready?"

Karen looked sidelong at him. "I'm not a problem. Are you?"

"Think so."

Lindy came up beside Trent. "We're ready. It'll just take him a few minutes to figure that out."

"Well then, move out," Karen called, swinging her arm overhead toward the door.

She herded everyone out and locked the door.

Trent looked back from halfway down the stairs. "We have to walk?"

"It's only two blocks to the bus stop."

"Oh, yeah. Bus."

* * *

Jane could hear loud cheering well before she reached the edge of Wellesley College campus. Inside, the route narrowed and was lined with students, each screaming and hollering for the racers in a local tradition called, "The Screech Tunnel." Looking around as much as she could through the spectators, she tried to take in as much of the campus look as she could. Just behind Jane's runner concentration, new images bubbled around in her mind, anxious for the chance to be put on canvas. _This has been worth it just for the inspiration._

After a steep drop and an equally steep climb, Jane reached the halfway mark, feeling only the beginnings of fatigue in her legs. She inhaled deeply and pushed her legs harder. The purely fun part of the race was over. It was time to commit to more speed and to work for every mile gained and every second saved.

* * *

Daria stopped at the courthouse door and closed her eyes. Michael held her hand while she breathed in and out several times. Sighing, Daria said, "Let's go in." 

After a quick pass through a metal detector, they went to Courtroom B, where Daria chose seats near the back of the gallery. Michael sat next to her while the room slowly filled.

Mr. Sullivan entered and noticed Daria. He went to the seat in front of her and knelt on it, facing back. "Good afternoon, Ms. Morgendorffer."

"Hi, Mr. Sullivan." Daria held up Michael's hand. "This is Michael Fulton."

"Good to meet you, young man," the ADA replied. "Kyle Sullivan."

Michael nodded and smiled. "I appreciate everything you've done for Daria."

"No problem, it's part of my job. Daria, I was hoping to get a chance to speak with you before today's proceedings."

"Go ahead," Daria said.

"Now that we can close the chapter on this extended mess, I want to thank you for all your cooperation and clear thinking."

Daria nodded. "Though to be honest, I would've liked to see some jail time for Mrs. Griffin, Mr. Lamm and Ms. Li."

"I've never seen a group of defendants turn on each other so hard. Substituting fines and parole for jail time helped to keep all three pleas in place. And effectively, each one has become an untouchable in their fields. In the long run, I think we did the right thing."

"Did you hear that Mrs. and Mr. Griffin disowned Sandi?"

"My daughter heard about it and told me. I'm sorry."

Daria was quiet for a few moments before asking, "Am I right in assuming that some of the delay was caused by psychological evaluations for Mr. Ruttheimer?"

"Yes. It was determined that he knew what he was doing was wrong, but the consensus was that, with treatment, he could gain control of his compulsions."

"In the long run, hopefully safer for me."

"I'm relieved you understand. Your father was…animated when I told him."

"Dad probably wanted to cover him with peanut butter and stake him out in front of a herd of squirrels."

"Close, but your mother talked him down." Mr. Sullivan checked his watch. "I need to get into place. Judge Garrison should be here momentarily."

* * *

Beyond Wellesley College, the marathon route ran through the gently rolling Wellesley Hills, ending in a half-mile long decline. The steep slope made Jane fight back against gravity to prevent an uncontrolled tumble down the slope, taking more effort than running the distance flat. Jane felt strain in different leg muscles when she reached the bottom. 

Soon after, she cleared the shading trees and faced a brightly sunlit climb of almost three-quarters of a mile. Despite the cool air, the sun's warmth added to her body heat and made for a shocking temperature change as Jane forced her way up the hill and into the town of Newton. The crowd at the top made the climb worth it. New energy came from the cheers, energy that was welcome to face the Newton hills over the next couple miles, hills that cause many entrants to drop out every year.

The first hill was just past a fire station. Jane followed the sweeping, turning path past a country club lined with people. Jane started to notice more and more younger people among the crowds. Some already looked to be intoxicated, with a couple offering beers to the runners. Each hill stressed Jane in different ways: some steep, some gentle, some with relatively straight paths, and others that sharply curved up the sides. To Jane, the crowd became dimmer and more distant and she focused more and more on running, pushing her endurance hard to keep going. Her steps became less even and her breathing ragged. She muttered, "The wall's getting close," and gritted her teeth against the aching fatigue in her legs.

* * *

Standing on an already crowded sidewalk, Bel looked in surprise at the large video camera the young, blond man with CC and Nell carried. "Do you think that thing's big enough?" 

He shrugged and held the camera a little higher. "Professional grade. Bigger than your household camcorder, and a lot better. Sometimes, size does matter."

CC pushed past him. "Yeah, yeah, Joe, enough bragging." She placed a footstool on the sidewalk in front of him. "Can you get a good shot over their heads?"

He stepped up onto it. "No problem."

Another blond-haired man set a tall stool on the pavement and turned to Nell, who was grimly fighting the crowd. "Your seat's ready."

"That's great, Cal. Can you give me a hand?"

Cal easily gave her a lift to sit on the chair, so she could also clearly see the runners. He told CC, "Also, no problem."

Bel asked Joe and Cal, "So how did you two get recruited?

The two men looked at each other, looked at CC and Nell, and then at Bel.

Bel laughed and said, "Never mind."

* * *

_Heartbreak Hill._ Jane faced the final hill of the group with dread. Earlier in the race, the climb wouldn't have been difficult, but after more than twenty miles, it was one of the great make or break points of the race. Her legs felt limp and weighted down as she struggled up the road. The bordering crowd's roar wasn't even registering to her mind any more. One step, followed by the next, the only goal was to get the next step started. Her breathing grew heavy and desperate and her arms dropped limply to her sides. 

Several runners, also looking tired, moved past. Jane felt like she was almost at the end when she reached the crest and could see the towers and skyscrapers of Boston. Abruptly, she felt a burst of energy and her breathing evened. The aching in her legs diminished and Jane picked up speed. _I'm past the wall. Let's hope I don't hit the next one before the end._

* * *

Handcuffed, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and escorted by two massive guards, Upchuck looked aged and shrunken when he entered the courtroom. His eyes stayed on the carpet as he was led forward and seated. 

Michael placed his free hand over the hand Daria was tightly gripping his with. She returned a brief nod and smile of gratitude.

The bailiff called in a tired voice, "Case 844602. The People versus Charles Ruttheimmer III."

Judge Garrison, a man in his mid-forties with black hair touched with gray, nodded to Mr. Sullivan. "Mr. Sullivan, is the plea agreement in this case still in effect?"

Mr. Sullivan said, "Yes, your honor."

"Mr. Ruttheimmer," Judge Garrison shifted his attention to the curly-haired man. "Do you still wish to abide by the plea agreement?"

Restrained, he said, "Yes, sir."

The judge reviewed some papers and then nodded to the bailiff, who read from a clipboard, "The defendant is accused of one count of Distribution of Adult Material to a Minor, one count of Criminal Stalking, on count of Breaking and Entering, and forty-seven counts of Illegally Duplicating Copyrighted Material for Resale."

"How do you plea?" Judge Garrison asked.

Just as quiet, Upchuck said, "Guilty."

"Your plea is accepted. By the terms of your agreement with the District Attorney's office, you are sentenced to detention in a psychiatric institution for treatment until a court-appointed panel of psychiatric professionals finds you sufficiently rehabilitated for release, not to exceed five years. Following release, you will be sentenced to supervised probation for three years."

He tapped the gavel and said, "Please transfer Mr. Ruttheimmer to the Department of Corrections for assignment to a psychiatric institution."

The guards raised Upchuck from his chair and escorted him from the room. He looked up and saw the couple seated near the back. Sad longing was on his face when he looked at Daria, but it changed to jealousy and anger when he looked at Michael.

The guard gave Upchuck a nudge when he paused, making him take his eyes away and focus again on the carpet.

Daria waited several more minutes before she whispered to Michael, "I'm ready." Continuing to hold his hand, she led them from the courthouse.

Outside, Helen and Jake waited on a bench. Daria went directly to them and accepted hugs from each.

Jake's tension was still palpable after the hug. He growled, "They should've…"

Helen admonished, "Jake! That's why we had to wait out here. We didn't need you arrested for contempt of court."

"That's okay, Mom." One-armed, Daria gave Jake a second hug. "As a father, he's allowed to be defensive. I think it's in the contract."

Jake nodded. "Yeah, Kiddo!"

Helen asked Michael, "How about you?"

"I understand how Mr. Morgendorffer feels. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to leave me alone with the guy, either. But then, that's why we have courts."

After the long wait outside listening to Jake's angry outbursts, Helen was a bit annoyed at Michael's empathy for them. However, she was also very pleased that he felt so protective of Daria. Helen said, "Agreed, but I'm glad you were calm enough to take inside."

* * *

"I hope Jane doesn't mind I drove my car instead of hers," Mack said as he hung the parking pass from the rear view mirror. "And I need to thank Karen for the directions. This place is a madhouse today." 

He squeezed into the narrow space between his car and the next. "Another good reason for my car." Consulting the map, he oriented himself and started walking. "Looks like it's this way."

* * *

Feeling her energy draining again, Jane pushed on into Brookline and kept an eye on the sidewalk to her left. The crowd packed the sidewalk from roadside to buildings. Her mind was turning hazy from the exhaustion and she had to spare extra effort from her running to keep looking. After long blocks, Jane spotted a red flag waving on the end of one of Nell's crutches. She altered course through the other runners to stop in front of the group. 

Jane gulped air for a couple seconds before weakly yelling to Joe's camera microphone, "Hey kids! I've got about two and a half miles to go. Take it easy on me tomorrow, will ya?" Jane waved to the camera, smiled and started running. She called over her shoulder, "Thanks!"

Bel, CC, Nell, Cal and Joe waved and called encouragement to her as Jane merged back into the pack.

* * *

Mack waved to Karen to let her know he saw her waiting for him near the entrance to the supporters' reception area. Closer, he said, "Okay, I didn't get lost, but you still got here faster, even with the side trip." 

"I warned you about the traffic. We got off the bus early and walked; it was faster."

"You warned me. So, is the plan working?"

"Oh yeah, this is gonna be good."

Mack grinned. "Great."

* * *

Surprised, Daria looked over her cup of steaming tea at Helen. "Oh, crap. I don't believe I completely forgot. I got her wish list last week." 

All four were seated at a table in a coffee house near the courthouse. "I think Quinn understands that you had a lot on your mind."

"Dammit, dammit, dammit. Even when she was always trying to give me makeovers, she remembered mine."

Michael suggested, "You can call her during one of my turns of driving later."

Daria sunk down in her chair. "I could. I have to miss Jane in the marathon, and now I've forgotten Quinn's birthday. Not a good track record."

"You can't be there for Jane, but the plan you helped Trent put in place will be."

"That's true. But I still don't know what I'm going to do about Quinn."

* * *

Jane's feet throbbed inside her running shoes, her legs felt like rubber, a cramp kept trying to form in her left thigh and she labored to breathe. Her reserves were gone. The sight of the Boston Public Library just ahead kept her going. _Almost there… _On each step, her feet fell free more than they were guided. The finish line grew closer and closer until she passed it at three hours, thirty-six minutes from her start. 

She used the next block to slow down to a walking pace while the satisfaction settled in. She gladly accepted the offered water from the finish line staff and drank carefully. Another staff member unfolded a lightweight heat blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders to fight off cold as her muscles cooled down. Dazed and happy, she had to be gently guided in the direction of the reception area.

Mack greeted her with a hearty embrace, picking her up and spinning her around. "Congratulations!"

"Oh, Mack. Thanks."

Mack set her down while Trent, Lindy and Karen gathered around. Lindy said, "I don't know how you do it, but wow."

Karen hugged Jane and said, "I know how, and I still say, wow."

Trent followed. "Cool, Janey."

Jane was about to speak when she heard a woman's voice say, "Jane, how wonderful."

Shocked, Jane looked past Trent. "Mom?"

"Congratulations, Jane," Vincent said, standing next to Amanda.

"Dad!"

Jane stumbled over and hugged both at the same time. "How did you…?"

Amanda quietly said, "Trent and Lindy said it was important to you. Daria helped us find a hotel and Karen helped us get on the right bus from the hotel."

"They all ganged up on me?"

Vincent puffed from his pipe and said, "Yes."

Jane turned to see Mack, Trent, Lindy and Karen nodding. She shivered under the blanket and smiled past her tears. "If you do all this for me to finish in the middle of the pack, what are you gonna do if I win?"

* * *

The bookstore clerk looked under the counter to find the reserved magazine. Once it was located, he stood, scanned the bar code, bagged the magazine and handed it to Quinn Morgendorffer. "Here's the issue you prepaid for. You're ready to go." 

Quinn smiled and told him, "Thanks."

He grinned in return, saying, "Any time, Quinn. Have a nice day."

"You too."

Quinn left the bookstore near Pepperhill University and walked to her car. Just after starting it, her cell phone rang. "Hello?"

Riding in the car next to Michael, Daria hesitantly said, "Hi, Quinn. I'm, uh…sorry about yesterday. I was thinking so much about…"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Daria…don't worry. I mean, thinking about….brr. I don't want to even go there. Even you are allowed to freak out at something like that."

"I'm still sorry about forgetting. What are you doing now?"

Quinn slipped the April issue of _Musings Magazine_ from the paper bag, opened it to the table of contents and scanned down the list until she saw:

**A Lifetime Condensed, by Daria Morgendorffer…………………………………….44.**

"You could say that I just picked up my birthday present."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading. 

December, 2005


	15. Registering Annoyance

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2005.

This is the forty-second story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Registering Annoyance**

"One of these days, we're gonna learn not to do this during finals week," Karen Myerson groused as she shook empty pizza delivery boxes down into a large plastic trash bag.

Daria Morgendorffer picked up empty two liter soda bottles and dropped them into a large, yellow recycling bin. "If we haven't after two years, what makes you think we will in the future?"

"Wishful thinking?" 

"Lightweights," Jane Lane said with a grin as she added more take-out food bags to Karen's bag. "You shoulda seen the old Mystic Spiral/Harpies get-togethers."

"It's not fair comparing professionals with amateurs," Daria said while picking up the recycle bin.

Karen stepped onto the boxes to push them further into the trash bag. "Too bad I'm gonna miss Mystic Spiral's next show, but I really want to see my new nephew."

"You're a real twisted cruller," Jane said as she wagged her finger at Karen. "If you're disappointed about missing my brother's band next week."

"I've heard worse."

"Jane and I have heard the Lawndale High Marching Band, but like I said, don't compare professionals with amateurs," Daria noted as she dropped the bin and started picking up bottles from another part of the living room.

"Try hearing a band with their, um, skill level, trying to play bluegrass. The sound's been known to cause cardiac arrhythmia in small animals." 

"Ouch." Jane shivered and said, "That is scary."

After working a few more scraps into the bag, Karen tied it closed. "Still, it's cool that your brother is kind of making a living in a band."

"'Kind of' is the operative term. If Trent's gonna pull off buying Casa Lane on more than just Lindy's paycheck, he needs to do more than 'kind of' make a living," Jane replied.

"Each gig here in Boston gives them more exposure," Daria said as she hefted the bin again. "But I'm sure something a little more reliable in the paycheck department will help them out."

* * *

The next morning, Karen loaded her truck with everything to go back to Georgia. She cinched the last of the tie-down straps holding a tarp over the truck bed and said, "There, that does it. I'm going to look for a topper when I'm back home. This tarp's a pain in the ass." 

Her turn to look at her roommates was interrupted by the arrival of a white sedan. A brunette stepped out and shyly approached. Erin Danielson said, "I hope you don't mind me stopping by."

"Not at all."

Daria said, "Hi, Erin."

Jane gave Erin a fast embrace. "Howya doin'?"

"Not bad. Still getting used to city life."

"Yeah, that does take a while," Karen said. "You here to see me off?"

"Yes. As a thank you."

"I didn't do that much, except maybe to keep a handle on Jane's ideas for cool apartments."

"But, you helped."

"You're welcome, then."

"Your boyfriend's not here?"

"We, um…" Karen said with a blush, "…said goodbye last night. A little more privately."

Erin asked, "Daria, Jane, what about yours?"

Daria explained, "Michael's working this morning."

"Did he get that job in the new lab he was talking about?"

Daria shook her head. "No. Competition was tough and he didn't get it. So, he'll be full-time with the Park Service over the summer."

Erin nodded. "I see. What about yours, Jane?"

"Vance has their finals next week, so Mack's busy studying."

"Are you staying here or going back to Lawndale for the summer?" 

Jane pointed up to the apartment. "Here. It'll be a little less manic than back home, what with my brother getting married and then having two newlyweds traipsing around the house." 

"Also working full-time?"

"Not quite. Someone here…" Jane pushed on Daria's shoulder. "…has been a bad influence and I'm adding art education as a minor. I'll go half-time to get some of the core courses and work the rest." 

Erin smiled. "Yeah, Mom used to worry about how Aunt Helen was raising her daughters."

"We worried about it, too," Daria said with a knowing smile. "Speaking of your mother, how's she doing?"

"She started working as a receptionist for Mid-Virginia Christian Charities. She wasn't happy about the pay, but I convinced her it was normal for a position like that."

"How about getting used to working full-time?"

"I think she'll be griping about that for some time to come."

Daria nodded. "Any word from Grandma if the guest house was sold?"

"Not yet. It's only been on the market a month."

"I hope she gets what she wants for it. That would just about clear her credit card debt."

"Hey, folks. I've got a long honkin' drive ahead of me and I need to get going." Karen hugged her roommates and added, "Daria, Jane, try not to wreck the place while I'm gone. Remember, only Trent and Lindy are allowed to use my room when the band's in town."

Jane said, "And we'll try to keep them off the rafters."

Karen next said, "Erin, good luck."

"Have a good summer," Daria told Karen.

Jane waved her finger at Karen's arm. "Try not to break anything this time, will ya?"

"It's not on my top-ten list of things to do."

Erin nodded. "Have a safe trip, Karen."

"Thanks." 

Karen sat in her truck and started it. She stared ahead for a few moments and then said through the open window. "It just hit me. We're halfway through college already. Seems like time…" 

Jane interrupted with, "Don't say it. It means we're starting to get old and I refuse to."

Karen nodded. "Okay. Take care, everyone."

With a sigh, she backed her truck up, drove down the driveway and around the house to the street.

* * *

After lunch, Daria came into the apartment sorting through the mail. Jane, sprawled on the sofa watching television, half-waved.

The television announcer said, "He once ran for vice-president, now the old vice returns for a new generation. Penguin lust! Next, when the _Sick, Sad World _marathon continues."

Daria stopped at the kitchen table and started dropping the envelopes into four rough stacks. "Junk…junk…forward to Karen…Jane, another overdue parking fine from BFAC…"

Jane looked over the sofa top. "It's a racket. I'll deal with it Monday." 

"Brushes-to-Go flyer…credit card offer junk…Victoria's…how'd I get on that mailing list?...and my Raft registration confirmation."

Daria opened the letter and stared at it in shock for several seconds before exclaiming, "What the hell!"

"Hmm?" Jane curiously asked. 

"I'm not listed for any classes. The registrar lost my pre-registration for this semester."

"You did it online, how could…"

"It's the Raft computer network. Someone in the server room could've belched and caused a data drop. I've heard the techs say it's held together with duct tape and zip ties."

"So get online and re-register." 

"Too late. I'm gonna have to wait until Monday and go through Add/Drop. And since this is saying I haven't registered for summer at all, I can't use the online Add/Drop system. I have to physically go into the registrar's office and activate my registration for summer. Plus, since I'm registering this late, I'll need to get some exemptions for classes that have already filled." 

"So you go there Monday morning before work: how bad can it be?"

Daria sat down at the table and rested her head on her arms. "I wish you hadn't said that."

* * *

Grateful for the staff parking decal she had through her University Press job, Daria pulled her black sedan into a space and cut it off. She drained a travel mug of coffee and tossed it onto the passenger floorboard of the car. "Ugh. This is way too early in the morning." 

Daria stacked a paperback book onto a folder containing her online registration printout and other relevant or possibly relevant papers. She climbed out of her car, locked it, and headed across the Quad to Founder's Hall and the Registrar's office. When she got there, a line was already formed outside the door.

"Great." 

Daria wandered to the back of the line and took her place among the already bored and frustrated students. Folder tucked under one arm, she opened her book and read while waiting. More gathered behind her in the cool morning damp. Aside from the rustle of feet and the occasional cough, the line was silent as they waited. 

Amoeba-like, the gathered students sighed and shuffled forward as a cautious clerk opened the office door. Inside, only three of the six registration stations were staffed, probably because of the anticipated lighter need during the summer. The line split into three at the door, each going to a station while the remaining students continued to wait outside. A low buzz started as those at the front of the line starting explaining their plight to the staff. 

As Daria anticipated, the line's advance was painfully slow. Stiff, she arched her back and rolled her shoulders back to stretch and relieve the muscles. A tall, blond haired man behind her stepped to the side a bit and watched. Daria straightened and curiously asked, "What are you looking at?"

The guy scratched his jaw and said, "Well, what you were showing. That little maneuver was hard to miss."

"I was stretching my back muscles."

"Uh-huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you say so. But you still got my attention."

Irked, Daria snapped, "That I'm not interested in."

The guy shook his head in exasperation and turned away, muttering, "Damn teases." 

"Jerk," Daria mumbled.

* * *

_Damn, I wish I'd stopped at a bathroom before getting in line._ Fighting back the discomfort, Daria finally reached one of the stations. She opened the folder to the printed copy of her online registration and said, 'Hi, I'm Daria L. Morgendorffer."

The thirtyish woman behind the counter said, "Student ID number please." 

"801119-3275"

"Thank you," the clerk said as she typed the number on a keyboard. "Here you are. What's the problem?"

"I registered for summer last March with the online system." Daria pushed a paper across the counter. "I received this letter Saturday that says I'm not registered."

"That's what I'm seeing here." 

Daria pushed the printout across the counter. "Here's my online confirmation."

The woman looked at the paper for a second and said, "Looks like something in the network ate it. The viruses get grumpy if you don't feed them regularly." 

Daria stood without reacting to the joke.

"I see that one didn't work. I assume you want to re-register."

"Yes, please."

The clerk typed more and clicked several places with a mouse. "Everything's in. The system will update your records overnight and you can add your classes tomorrow through Add/Drop."

"Tomorrow?"

"Sorry, best I can do."

Sighing, Daria agreed, "Tomorrow it is."

"You better check if the classes you registered for are still open."

"I will, thanks." 

Daria collected her papers and trudged out of the office. "Great, another early day tomorrow."

* * *

Carrying her lunch on a tray, Daria followed Michael to a booth and sat down across from him. The buffet restaurant was relatively empty compared to when classes were in session at Raft. Daria took her plate and glass from the tray and handed it to the red-haired man, who placed it with his and set them in the space provided on a raised divider between booths.

Daria took a long drink and felt some of the day's tension slip away. "I managed to get an override for Literary Criticism. Classroom Reading was filled, but it looks like I can get in Middle School Literature. The rest I can shuffle sections and hopefully get, providing…"

"That sounds like a big, 'providing.'"

"I can talk Dr. Findlay into letting me do a split schedule to get a Tuesday-Thursday class at three."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. I'd almost considered just letting the whole thing drop and working full-time like you are, but I'd probably try to kill my boss before the end of summer."

"And just the thought of how much flak your sister would give you for wearing an orange jump suit completely nixes that idea."

Daria let out a brief laugh. "To top things off, I had some jerk leering at me and acting as if I'd been prancing around flirting or something. At least he had enough sense to recognize a 'not interested' and go away." 

"He probably thought he was God's gift and that you couldn't resist."

"He was acting like I'd been trying to get his attention; it was creepy after the business with Upchuck."

Michael looked at his plate for a moment before saying, "You, uh…tend to forget how pretty you are. He may have been looking, because guys tend to look."

"He wasn't looking, he was ogling."

"Not everyone's very discreet. I'm surprised it hasn't happened before."

"Gee, thanks."

Michael sighed as he tried to figure a way out of the hole he was digging himself into. Cautious, he said, "Do you believe me when I say you're beautiful?"

"Of course I do."

"Then doesn't it make sense that others will find you attractive also?"

"Yes, it does. That still doesn't rate rude leering."

"No, it doesn't. But like I said, not everyone's very discreet." 

Daria nodded her head and sunk down an inch in her seat. "I still don't like it."

"Nobody said you had to." 

Following a few seconds of silence, they started their meals. A minute later, Daria leaned across the table and narrowed her eyes. "So, I take it you've been 'discreet' about your observations?" 

Michael closed his eyes. "Just when I thought I'd gotten myself out of the hole."

* * *

"I don't like splitting up a work day. You lose productivity when someone has to settle in and get ready to go twice." Behind his ornate desk, Dr. Findlay sorted through Daria's notes on class schedules. "Hmm. Your Monday/Wednesday schedule has all early classes. You can work eleven to five on those days, and then a full day on Friday. That'll give you twenty hours and you only have to put up with me three days a week."

"No option here, right?"

"Sure you have an option. You don't have to work here. Cheap and Cheesy Pizza's usually hiring drivers."

"The Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule will be fine."

"Very well."

"Thanks."

Daria rose to leave. As she reached the door, Dr. Findlay said, "Good luck on clearing up the registration mess. There are some things about college that never change."

* * *

Jane looked up from her computer at Daria. "Yep, sounds like registration screw-ups suck big-time."

"They do. Not to mention the fact that you have to wait in line with your fellow students to get anything done."

"Uh-oh, sounds like another story."

"After standing in line for an hour, I stretched my back and noticed some guy staring at my chest like I was Brittany Taylor or something. Michael said that some guys just didn't get the concept of discretion, but this guy was over the top, and got bent out of shape when I told him to stop."

Jane rested an arm on the back of her chair. "You were doing what just before?"

"Stretching my back. It was stiff after getting up early and standing in line."

"Humor me. Do exactly what you did."

"What? Oh, okay, if it'll amuse you."

When Daria arched and rolled her shoulders back, Jane said, "Stop right there. Don't move."

Jane grabbed the loose full-length mirror she used for self-portraits and held it up. "Daria, take a look at yourself."

"What do you mean?" Seeing her reflection, Daria slumped forward and dropped her face onto one hand. "Oh, God."

"You're not an underdeveloped fifteen-year old any more. You need to be careful where you point those things."

"No wonder the guy thought I was flirting. Crap."

"I'm sure more than one guy noticed. Males have a radar for those things."

* * *

"I'm sorry, there's a financial hold on your account and you can't register until it's cleared. You need to take care of that at the Financial Services office and then we can try again," another clerk told Daria the following morning.

"Hold? What for?"

"I don't know; you'll have to ask at Financial Services."

"Couldn't someone have mentioned it yesterday?"

The clerk rotated her monitor some for Daria to barely see it. "If the person only looked at the main screen to see if you were registered, it wouldn't have shown up." He mouse-clicked and a second screen appeared. "Holds are shown on the Registration Activity screen."

Frustrated, Daria said, "Great. Well, I better get over there."

The clerk turned the monitor back, exited from Daria's computer file, and said, "Next."

* * *

The students in line outside Financial Services were in an even darker mood than at the Registrar. Some were visibly angry, others looked terrified of what was to come. Daria checked her watch and sighed. "I'm not even going to have time for lunch at this rate."

"I'd like to be able to buy lunch," a young man nearby grumbled. "Maybe they'll get off their asses with my financial aid today and I can."

"Uh, sorry," Daria replied, feeling a little ashamed for her complaining.

"Eh, don't worry about it. I'll go hit the Vegan Pagan free lunch line and sleep through their sermon. Probably shouldn't have bought that second keg last weekend."

"Good bet," Daria agreed and turned away.

* * *

"At last." Daria reached a bank-teller style service window. "I need to find out why I have a financial hold on my records." 

The clerk took a quick drink from a coffee-stained mug and said, "Student number, please."

"801119-3275" 

The man entered the number and said, "Daria Morgendorffer?"

"Yes, that's me."

He studied the monitor, scrolling through a couple screens before saying, "Ah, here it is. A one dollar fine from the library dated February 7."

"My whole registration has been tied up because of a lousy, one dollar library fine?"

"Policy. You can't register until all outstanding financial obligations have been fulfilled."

Daria tightly pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay, let me pay it so I can get things going." 

"We don't accept library fines here. You'll have to go to the library circulation desk to pay. Bring the receipt back here and we can clear the hold."

Daria looked at her watch. "I don't have time to run to the library and then stand in line here again. I have to be at work."

"If you put the receipt in the outside drop-box before four this afternoon, it'll be processed today."

"I'll barely have time but I can do that. Thanks."

"Next."

* * *

_Crap, crap, crap. _Her mood growing fouler, Daria stomped back across the Quad to the library. Along the way, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

In his dorm room, Michael answered, "Hello." 

"Hi, it's me."

"I was beginning to wonder."

"I'm sorry, I can't see you for lunch today. I still have two and a half trips across campus to make before work."

"Whatever for?"

"Still trying to get registered. They say I have a one dollar library fine, which I don't remember getting, that has to be paid before I'm cleared. And then, I have to take proof of payment back to Financial Services before I go to work, since I won't have time during break or after."

"You've got to be kidding."

"You don't know how much I wish I was."

"Good luck." 

"Thanks. Any luck finding an apartment?"

"None. I'll try some after work today."

"Good luck, too." 

"I'll need it."

"I'll see you for lunch tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll be here." 

"Bye."

"Good-bye."

* * *

Thankful for no line, Daria went straight to the circulation desk and presented her student ID and library card. "Hi, I need to pay a fine to get a hold off my registration."

The student assistant scanned the barcode on the card and looked at her monitor. She frowned and said, "You don't have any outstanding fines." 

Loud for a library, Daria exclaimed, "What?"

"You don't owe us anything."

"There's a hold on my registration because Financial Services says I have a one-dollar library fine that I haven't paid."

"Not according to this."

"Dammit!"

Several library staff members looked over.

"Sorry, but our computer says you don't owe anything. Sounds like they've screwed up again." 

Daria leaned against the counter and massaged her temples. "Look, could you please print what your records show so I can take it to Financial Services?"

"Um, if you're gonna do that, you need an official copy. Just a minute." The young lady disappeared into the cluster of offices behind the desk, leaving Daria waiting.

Several minutes later, she returned with a middle-aged woman. The younger explained to Daria, "Financial Services won't take anything from us unless it's notarized." 

"Ah, another detail they forgot to include," Daria said with disgust.

The student printed the record screen and the older staff member promptly impressed it with her stamp and signed. She handed it to Daria. "There you go, miss."

"Do you know if I can put this in Financial Services drop-box? Like they said I could with a paid receipt."

The notary said, "I wouldn't. They have that for payments and receipts. Anything else gets taken care of last, so it may not get passed on for a day or two."

"Of course, that would be too easy."

* * *

On the library steps, Daria looked across the Quad and thought, _At least I don't have to march across that again and back today. Plus, I have a little time for lunch, even if alone._

She stopped at a hot dog cart to buy her lunch and sat on a bench outside one of the lecture halls to eat.

_Another day blown on this stupidity. Hopefully I can get the hold lifted tomorrow, activate my registration and add my classes on Thursday. Dammit. I hope none of my classes close before then._

She stretched and massaged her shorts-clad legs, tired from standing or walking the entire morning. Daria had just picked up her lunch when she remembered. _Oh, damn. Trent and the band's showing up tomorrow for their gig. They'll be out until oh-dark-thirty and will be loud enough to wake me when they do get in. Great._

"Nice legs, too," the blond from the previous day's encounter said. He stood on the sidewalk, weight shifted back and arms folded.

Quickly pulling her feet under the bench, Daria said, "Oh, um, hi. Look, I…was a little abrupt with you yesterday."

"You tried to snap my head off. But, who's keeping track?"

"I'm trying to apologize. I was tired and sore and I wasn't paying attention."

"So you didn't mean to make a spectacle of yourself?"

"No!"

"Whatever." The man shrugged and continued on his way down the sidewalk.

Daria watched for a couple moments. _Okay, still a jerk._

* * *

The Financial Services clerk said, "My screen's showing that you still haven't paid your balance. I can't remove the hold."

Daria tapped the notarized printout from the library. "I just told you. I don't have an outstanding fine, so there's nothing to pay. Here's the statement from the library saying that."

"Hmm." The clerk scanned the paper. "Looks like the library mistakenly reported you to us as having a fine. Probably mistyped or misread a student number or something. Just a minute."

"The detective work might be fascinating to you, but I only want the hold removed."

The clerk rolled his eyes, picked up a phone and dialed. "Hi. I need someone with admin privileges to clear a hold…The library again…Okay." The hung up the phone and told Daria, "A supervisor is needed to do that. Please have a seat and she'll call you."

* * *

"Miss Morgendoffer?"

Snapping awake from her doze, Daria said, "Morgendorffer. Yes, that's me."

A gray-haired woman stood in front of Daria. "I understand you need a hold cleared. May I see the form from the library?"

Daria shifted in her chair and located a folder. "Here." After she passed the page to the lady, Daria stiffly stood.

"Follow me."

They went into an office behind the service desk, where the supervisor sat down and started working at her computer. Daria took a seat and checked her watch. _Damn, I was out for a while._

"Gah, I wish the library would tie into our system instead of stubbornly hanging onto their old dinosaur," the woman complained as she typed and shifted between several screens.

_The buck never stops around here._

"Done." The woman spun on her chair and placed the notarized form onto the platen of a small copier. "I have to keep the original for our records; I'm making you a copy for yours."

"I can register now?" Daria cautiously asked.

"As soon as you can get over there." She gave the copy to Daria. "Here you go. Have a nice day."

"Um, thanks."

The woman gave Daria a quick smile and picked up a packet from her inbox. The smile disappeared. "Not another one. I'm getting too old for this."

Daria stepped out of the door and walked to the Registrar as fast as she could.

* * *

Arriving home, Daria saw a huge, black SUV parked along the driveway. "I see they made it."

Inside, the four members of Mystik Spiral were gathered around the table, assaulting a stack of pizzas. Jane and a woman wearing her blond hair in a pony tail watched them with amusement while each nibbling on a slice.

Jane waved at Daria and pointed to the kitchen. Daria followed them and said, "Hi, Lindy. How you motivated them to leave before noon is beyond me…or did they decide to stay up all night because it was easier?" 

Lindy gave Daria a hug. "They stayed up and slept the whole way here, leaving me to drive that Suburban Assault Vehicle by myself." She released her and added, "I'm glad Jane had the pizzas waiting when we got here so they can stoke up for tonight." 

Jane asked, "How'd the fight with the forces of evil go today?"

"Between Financial Services and the Registrar, I blew another whole morning. I'll find out tomorrow if I really can register for classes."

"Registration problems?" Lindy asked.

"Yes. Bureaucratic idiots. My registration was held for a nonexistent library fine and I've already spent three days trying to clear it up."

"You're not alone. During my first senior year, Lawndale State somehow thought I was a freshman again and wouldn't let me register for upper division classes. What a mess."

Jane nudged Lindy. "You need to show her."

"Oh, gosh!" Lindy said with a happy grin. "Just a minute."

Lindy went into the living room and returned with a worn notebook. She pulled out a photo and showed it to Daria. "This is what I picked out for bridesmaid dresses. And, Quinn found a place in Boston you can get them fitted."

The sleeveless dress was pale yellow with a lace accent around the neckline. Also printed on the page was a pair of yellow dress shoes with a low heel.

Daria said, "They look nice. And, the shoes don't have high heels."

Lindy continued, "I'm going to be shaking enough as it is; I didn't want to try to walk on heels and figured you didn't either." 

Jane noticed the remaining hesitancy in Daria. "You can tolerate wearing hose for a couple hours. They're not that bad." 

"I suppose it won't kill me."

"So it'll make you stronger," Jane said and smirked.

"I don't think Nietzsche had hosiery in mind when he wrote that." 

Lindy placed a hand on Daria's shoulder. "That's why he always underestimated women."

Trent wandered into the kitchen and stopped. "Hey, Daria. When did you get here?" 

"Hi, Trent. A few minutes ago. You were a little distracted."

He laughed and coughed. "Guess I was. Long trip, you know. Good pizza, Janey."

Jane leaned to suspiciously look past Trent into the dining area. "Is there any left?"

"Uh, no." Trent noticed the look Jane and Lindy gave him and then at Daria. "Oops."

Daria said, "I'll fix myself something quick. When do you need to be at the club to set up?"

"Seven."

"Jane, that place is over by MIT, isn't it?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah, Mystik Spiral's gonna play for a bunch of real techno geeks."

Daria said, "Trent, with rush hour traffic, you better leave pretty soon."

"But, it's not that far…"

Jane interrupted. "Trust us. It'll seem like it."

"Um. Okay. Better get everyone ready. Sorry about the pizza, Daria."

"It's not that big of a deal, Trent. We'll see you later."

* * *

Daria and Michael could tell the club catered to the local engineering students. The upper walls and ceiling were decorated with a bizarre array of contraptions, the product of many years of student projects. Students milled around the tables and the bar as they wended their way through to where Jane and Lindy were sitting.

"What do you think?" Jane asked.

Daria replied as she sat down, "Wow, a nerd meat market."

Lindy laughed and nodded. "No kidding. I had two guys hit on me just trying to reach the bathroom. They disappeared real fast when I said the lead singer was my fiancé."

Michael said, "It was weird the way people were watching us when we came in."

Jane shook her head. "Look at the number of guys to gals in here." 

"Um, a lot more guys."

"And you showed up with a girl."

"Yeah. So what's that…oh. I get it."

Jane laughed. "You two are so clueless at times."

Jesse, Nick and Max took the stage and prepared to perform. Daria noticed that they seemed oddly nervous. "What's up? They've performed for years; why the stage fright?"

"I don't know," Lindy said. "Trent's coming over. I'll ask." 

Trent, as anxious as the rest of the band, squatted next to Lindy and embraced her. "There's a recording scout here tonight. This could be our break."

Lindy kissed him and said, "I'm right here."

"Thanks, Lindy. I needed that."

Appearing restored, Trent went to join the rest of the band. Lindy closed her eyes and held the table.

Jane put a hand on hers. "You all right?"

"I'm scared of what being turned down by the scout will do to them. And, I'm just as scared of what might happen if the scout likes them."

* * *

Jane returned from the restroom with a look of shock and disgust. "That proves high intelligence doesn't prevent the use of really, really bad pick-up lines."

Daria shifted an inch closer to Michael. "I'll take your word for it. And that gives me more incentive to just hold it until we get out of here." She whispered to him, "But we'll find a place as soon as possible after that." 

Jane sat back down. "Michael does seem to be making a good jerk repellent for you."

"Glad to be of service?" he said.

"I wish Mack were here." Jane sighed, said, "The hell with it," and scooted her chair next to Michael. "Daria, I'm not gonna kiss your boyfriend, but I hope you don't mind me getting within his protective circle."

Quietly, Lindy moved her chair to Jane's old place, so that all four were closely packed together facing the stage. "At least until Trent's off the stage."

Several minutes later, a group of guys walked past them, complaining among themselves.

"Lucky bastard."

"More like greedy bastard."

"Show off."

"What's he got?"

"Must have something."

"Tell me about it. He looks as geeky as you."

"Bet he's rich."

Daria told Michael, "Don't let this go to your head."

* * *

_Love set the day,  
that made our eyes to see.  
And put us on the way,   
To where we had to be._

Trent finished the song and Jesse strummed a flourish with his rhythm guitar. Trent then took a breath and said, "Thank you. We're Mystik Spiral, and we're gonna stick with that name."

The crowd cheering was favorable and the band stepped down in good spirits after their second set. They pulled another table over to join Lindy, Jane and Daria and Michael.

Max air-drummed on the table and said, "We were hot tonight. Nick, you were smokin'."

Nick beamed and said, "And your drumming set the rhythm just right." 

"Best we've played," Max added.

"Yeah, we were cool," Jesse confirmed.

Trent sat last. "Good crowd."

Lindy put her arm around Trent's waist and held him close.

Max rubbed his hands together. "I hope we impressed that scout with our criminale sound."

"Yeah, we could start a whole new trend," Nick chimed in.

Jesse said, "The chicks would really dig that."

In low voice, Jane said to Daria, "They haven't changed a bit. If we don't do something, they can go on forever."

Lindy waved her arm and said, "I'm calling a waitress; figure out what you want to drink."

Daria replied to Jane, "Damn, she's good."

* * *

Trent thanked the club manager, folded the paycheck and put it into his front pocket. Deflated, he came back to the tables. "Sorry guys, the scout left half an hour ago."

"But he didn't say anything!" Max exclaimed.

Nick struck the table with his fist. "He snubbed us!"

Jesse shook his head. "That's not right."

Trent shrugged, "I guess he just wasn't interested in us."

"How could he not be?" Max shouted.

"You bungled the rhythm beat again, moron!" Nick shot at Max.

"It's because you couldn't play your way out of a wet paper bag!"

Jesse suggested, "Maybe we need to change our name."

"No, we don't!" Trent, Max and Nick chorused.

* * *

Groggy from too little sleep, Daria shuffled out of her bathroom and sniffed. "Coffee? Who made coffee this early when Karen's gone?" 

"Hi, Daria." Lindy sat on one of the kitchen counters with a mug held in both hands.

"Lindy? What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep."

Daria poured a cup of coffee for herself, added sugar and opened the refrigerator for some milk. "Trent took things hard last night, didn't he?"

Lindy nodded.

Her coffee ready, Daria put the milk back in the refrigerator. "We knew something like this would happen eventually…but, um, it doesn't make it any easier."

"Thanks."

"What about you? Are you disappointed the scout wasn't interested in them?" 

"I'm glad you and Jane are underage and don't have any booze stashed around here." Lindy stared into her cup. "I looked."

"Well, uh…" Daria stopped, not knowing what to say.

"I'm doing better, now that I've had some coffee. I've stayed sober ever since Quinn convinced me to try, and I plan on staying that way. But the temptation will always be there."

Daria nodded slowly, still speechless. 

"Mainly, I'm upset for how much it hurt Trent. As odd as you and Jane find it, I have a sense of security with Trent and where we live I never had before. I'm afraid I'd lose that if they did make it big. And in the long run, I know it wouldn't make Trent happy. Lawndale and our house is his true home."

"I had that feeling about him, too. Which reminds me; how are you going to handle the Wandering Lanes if they all show up? The last time, Trent and Jane took refuge at my parents' house."

"I'm still working on that. But, if I can deal with my mother, I can deal with them."

"Ah," Daria answered, feeling that Lindy's mother was a subject best left alone. Opening a cupboard, she asked, "Do you want something to eat?"

Lindy hopped off of the counter. "That would be a good idea. Thanks." 

Daria took down two bowls and a box of cereal. "My breakfasts aren't involved like Karen's."

"Cereal's fine." Lindy patted her hip. "I want to make sure my wedding gown still fits next month."

* * *

Still tired, Daria rested her head on the table next to her sub sandwich. "I had to run down signatures for two more overrides to get into filled classes, but I made it. Four freaking days to get my summer classes. I'm glad that ordeal's over."

Michael reached across the table and stroked her hair. "You can rest now. You've beaten back the bureaucracy."

"I'd like to beat them with a stick," Daria grumbled, but also let out a soft sigh in response to Michael's touch.

"Wouldn't do much good; their hides are too thick."

Daria lifted her head just enough to look at him. "Probably the only way to live through the office politics. Survival of the fittest."

"Or should that be thickest?"

"Good one."

"Well, let's forget about that for now. My full-time hours start next week and I won't be able to get over here for lunch for the summer. Let's enjoy this while we can."

"Deal."

* * *

Arriving home the following Monday, Daria picked up the mail and started to scan through it on her way up. She stopped on the landing outside the door when she saw a letter from the university library.

"What now?" Daria asked while she tore open the letter.

May 18, 2001

Dear Student,

Our records show that **DARIA L MORGENDORFFER** has been assessed a fine of $1.00 - **ONE** Dollars and **ZERO** cents - for overdue library materials. Please remit payment to the Circulation Desk as soon as possible. If payment is not made within 4 (four) weeks of the above date, the fine will be reported to the Financial Services office and a hold placed on your account until payment is made.

Thank you,  
Raft University Library Services

"Dammit!"

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

December 2005-January 2006


	16. Four Friends, Four Winds

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the Forty-third story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Four Friends, Four Winds**

"Good luck with those weddings," Fran Lawrence said over breakfast to her friend, Quinn Morgendorffer. 

Sitting at the dining table with Fran's aunt and uncle, Quinn said, "Thanks, I'm going to need it. Lindy's mom is going insane."

Fran's aunt and foster-mother, Beth Stamford, asked, "A lot of mothers kind of go a little nuts. Mine did." 

Quinn shook her head. "This is more than a little nuts. Mrs. Weaver's turning into a real Momzilla. And we're really trying to figure out how to keep her sober at the reception."

"Oh, dear."

"Fran said weddings, as in more than one?" Fran's Uncle David asked.

Quinn nodded. "And ohmygod, my Aunt Amy is getting married in September."

"That sounds nice. Is it a second marriage?" replied Beth.

Quinn explained, "No. That's kind of what has me worried. According to Daria, Mom and her sisters are getting along kinda sorta better. But still. I remember the riot at my cousin Erin's wedding."

David asked, "Riot?"

"Really, it was more of a big food fight. Well, except for the one groomsman and the preacher; they were really hitting each other. Anyway, one of Amy's best friends is like this army woman and I think she'll help keep things under control."

"Are you in that one, too?"

"I don't know if she's made any decisions about who's going to be in the wedding party. I won't be upset if I'm not. Being Lindy's maid of honor is enough for one summer."

David said, "Either way, sounds like you'll have a busy time."

"Yeah. Plus, I hope I can get my old job back at Cashman's. I wouldn't mind getting an employee discount again."

Beth looked at Fran. "Something you might consider, with how much your clothes budget has gone up in the last six months."

Quinn sheepishly said, "I'm kind of responsible for that. But I only wanted to…"

"Shh." Beth hushed Quinn. "I don't mind that much. It's nice to see Fran a little more outgoing." 

Fran said, "I'm glad I am, too."

"But, you need to pay a little more of your own way."

"Yes, ma'am," Fran answered.

* * *

Standing by Quinn's red Vexxer, Fran hugged her friend and said, "Have good summer. I can't wait to move into the Tri-Theta house next year."

Quinn hugged back. "We're gonna have a lot of fun."

"I can hardly wait."

Quinn opened her car door. "With four days on the road ahead of me, I really should get going. You take care of yourself, Fran."

"I will. You too. I had a lot of fun this year."

"Me too. Bye."

"Bye." 

Quinn got in, started the car and backed onto the street. With a short wave, she reluctantly started her long trip home.

* * *

Helen Morgendorffer watched her husband pace in front of the picture window in their living room. "Jake, you're wearing a hole in the carpet."

He replied, "Oh, sorry. Just nervous about Quinn. She's running late."

"She has her cell phone. She'll call if something comes up."

"But what if she's been in a horrible accident? What if she's not in a service area? What if she forgot to charge it?"

"Jake, it's no worse than when we rode across country at her age. Remember?" 

"But Helen…"

"We were in a lot less reliable of a car than hers."

"Oh, well, yeah." 

"Then settle down."

Jake slumped his shoulders and he sat next to Helen. "Can't I be a little worried?"

"Yes you can, dear. But just a little." 

"It's going to be nice to have one of our girls home for a while. The place has been awfully quiet."

Helen smiled and kissed his cheek. "Not all the time."

He laughed and kissed back. "No, not all. But I still miss our girls."

Helen nodded. "I miss them, too." She looked at her watch. "Quinn, you're late. Where could you possibly be?"

Jake jumped up and ran to the window. "There she is!"

Helen joined him, rushing to open the door.

Quinn stiffly got out of her car and walked to the door, slightly hunched over. "Finally."

"Quinn! Welcome home!" Helen cried out.

Jake grabbed Quinn in a bear hug and lifted her off the ground. "I'm so glad you're safe!"

After being set back on the ground, Quinn mumbled. "Hi Mom, hi Dad. I'm going to take a hot bath. Wake me up in an hour."

Trancelike, Quinn walked upstairs and directly into the bathroom.

Jake looked at Helen. "I'd have thought she'd be a little more excited to see us."

* * *

Helen placed the hot baking dish on a trivet and answered the ringing telephone. "Hello?...Oh, hi Sandi….Quinn got home about an hour ago…She's in the bath right now…Can you? Can you what?...What?...Uh, no Sandi, she was a little out of it when she got home, she didn't mention anything...I couldn't believe your mother would do such a thing…Still?...No…Oh, Sandi, of course you can…right now if you want, I'll tell Quinn as soon as she's out of the bath…Okay, bye."

Helen placed the phone back down. "Jake, we're having another guest."

Jake turned around on the sofa. "Daria's coming home to visit too?" 

"Um, no Jake."

Jake warily asked, "Not one of our relatives?"

"No, Jake. Quinn's friend Sandi needs a place to stay."

"She's the one that testified with Daria about that school case. Sure."

"I'm glad you agree, Jake. Give me a moment to go check on Quinn." 

Helen went upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door. After no response, she knocked louder.

Only face and knees peaking out over the suds of the bubble bath, Quinn came out of her light sleep and said, "Huh?"

Helen said through the door, "Honey, did you have something you were going to ask us?" 

"What?"

"Were you planning on asking us something when you got home?"

Still foggy, Quinn sat partway up and said, "About what?"

"Did you tell Sandi that she might be able to stay here?"

"Oh, yeah. Can she? Her mother's still being a real witch about that whole testimonial stuff and won't let her go home."

"I'd gathered that much. She'll be here in about half an hour. I suggest you get dressed before then."

* * *

Quinn rushed to answer the doorbell. "I'll get it."

Sandi's hair was flat and simply cut. For her, freshman fifteen was more like thirty. Even makeup couldn't conceal the fatigue in her eyes. Though still tasteful and well coordinated, her clothes were inexpensive copies of last season's fashions.

It didn't matter to Quinn. She embraced her friend and squealed, "Sandi!"

Subdued, Sandi said, "Thanks, Quinn." 

Helen came in from the kitchen. "Sandi, come in please. We have the guest room ready for you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Morgendorffer."

Quinn said, "I'll show you," and led Sandi to her new room.

Inside, Sandi grabbed Quinn and buried her face against the redhead's shoulder, crying.

* * *

Recovering from her emotional release, Sandi dried her eyes and sat on the bed. "I guess I knew things would get bad when I left for college last fall. After Mom got me fired over that stupid tape, we could hardly talk to each other." 

Sitting down on the bed beside her, Quinn said, "I wish I knew something to say."

"You talked your mom into letting me stay; that's enough for now."

"I'll be honest; I think she also likes the chance to take a poke at your mother."

Sandi found the strength for a weak smile. "Can I give her a bigger stick?"

Quinn softly laughed. "Good one. Do you know your final grades yet?"

"I barely kept a 2.0 GPA. I don't know if I'm going to be able to finish." 

"Hey, you made it through your freshman year, that's a good sign."

"But I don't want to go back. I'm all alone up there."

"Alone?"

"I don't have any real friends at school. There are only a couple people that will even talk to me. I hate it."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Sighing, Sandi said, "I'm going to look into Lawndale State. Maybe I can transfer. At least a few people around here still like me."

"Sandi, of course there are."

"Oh, can I go with you tomorrow to apply for a job at Cashman's? I'm going to need a job real fast."

Quinn paused for a moment as she developed an idea. "We'll do that the day after tomorrow. I'm calling Stacy and Tiffany and we're having a day out, just like old times. Well, not exactly like old times since I don't think Joey, Jeffy or Jamie are still around. But otherwise, just like old times."

"I can't go. I'm almost broke. My trust fund can only be used for college expenses. That's why I need to get a job."

"My treat." Quinn raised a finger to Sandi. "No arguments."

"But…" 

Quinn shook her head. "We all promised to stay together as friends, remember? Like Daria and Jane and Jodie and Mack." 

"That seems so long ago. They're really all still friends?"

"Well…Jane is seeing Mack now, but yeah. Jodie's even working with my Dad again this summer." 

"I'd like to see Stacy and Tiffany. What are we going to do?"

"We'll have lunch and then go to the mall. Maybe catch a movie. It'll be lots of fun."

* * *

Speaking on the telephone while sitting in the living room, Quinn bounced from time to time as she talked and listened. "Just three more weeks, Lindy. How are things going?…Max did what?...Where?...Like anybody's going to notice...He didn't…Jesse tried to get just the jacket because he doesn't like to wear shirts?...Did Nick behave?...Maybe we can glue his mouth shut; nobody needs to hear about his divorce right now…Don't worry, they've been fitted for the bridesmaid dresses…I'm positive. Jane took pictures…Daria gave her a mini spy camera for a stunt they pulled a couple years ago, she snuck it in…Daria's helping her boyfriend find an apartment…I'll probably try to push her in front of the bouquet…Oh, she'll probably try to kill me, but it'll be worth it. Can we get together on Saturday?...About eleven? I'll be there. See you then, bye."

Tentatively, Sandi came down the stairs. Her makeup was fixed and signs of her crying were gone. She asked, "How'd it go?"

"Great!" Quinn replied. "Stacy and Tiffany can't wait to see us. We're going to get together at Pizza Prince for lunch and then hit the mall. Lindy's working tomorrow and Friday, so I'll be getting together with her on Saturday to go over stuff for the wedding."

Sandi looked at the floor. "I look like hell, don't I?"

"Sandi, what do you mean?"

"I look like hell," Sandi mumbled. "Look at me. I'm worse than I was after I broke my leg."

"Sandi, you don't look bad."

"Easy for you to say. You're the same size as last year, and that short hair looks makes you look even cuter. I've bloated out and look like a truck hit me without my makeup."

Quinn shivered a little bit at the description, thinking of what had happened to Fran. "Sandi, hold on a minute, will you?"

"Why?" 

"I'll be right back."

Quinn ran upstairs and came down with a small stack of photos. She sat back down and showed one to Sandi. "That's my roommate, Fran."

"Uh, huh. That's supposed to make me feel better? Look at how petite she is. She's even smaller than you. I suppose you want me to try her diet."

Quinn showed a second photo. "This is her without makeup."

Sandi started and drew back.

Quinn added, "You don't want her diet. She has to eat like you wouldn't believe just to keep her weight and take special supplements. I was jealous of that at first, but seeing her struggle, I'm not anymore. Sandi, so you've added some weight and worry circles. We know you can still look good when you want to, just as you are."

Sandi asked, "What happened to her?" 

"She was in a car accident." Quinn mentally included, _Her parents' car was hit by a truck._

"Oh." 

Quinn put an arm around Sandi's shoulder. "That doesn't mean that what you've gone through wasn't hard. Only that you don't look like hell. I told you before: you're beautiful on the inside."

* * *

Quinn was aware of how slightly out of place she felt in the teen hangout that was Pizza Prince. The place seemed like it was smaller and the booth she was seated at with Sandi a little more worn. However, the cheeseless pizza tasted the same, bringing a warm familiarity to her.

Feeling more like her old self, Sandi said, "It's like these people don't even recognize us."

"A lot of them were only freshman or sophomores when we were seniors. They didn't know us that well." 

"So much for our legacy."

"Sandi, did you really want to end up like that Tommy Sherman guy and have your best years in high school?"

"Hmm. When you put it that way, I guess not."

A brunette dressed like a tomboy with full hair past her shoulders entered. "Quinn! Sandi!" Stacy Rowe exclaimed and ran over to their booth, reaching across the table to try to hug both. "It's so good to see you!" 

"Stacy!" Quinn said back.

Sandi honestly was pleased to see her. "Hi, Stacy."

Stacy sat down next to Sandi. "It's been so long."

"Stacy, how are you?" Quinn asked.

"Wonderful. I made it through my first year at Lawndale Community College. I've had a couple of good race finishes."

Sandi observed, "Your clothes have changed."

Shyer, Stacy said, "Well, um, I haven't been paying much attention to fashion. What with college and racing and helping Daddy with the shop and stuff." 

"Oh," Sandi said.

"I'm sorry. But now, I just don't have time."

"I guess not." Sandi shrugged. "But then, I haven't either."

"Hey everybody," Tiffany Blum-Deckler said as she came in. Her painfully slender build was gone, replaced by toned muscle that was set off by a pale blue tennis dress.

More loud greetings followed as Tiffany settled into the booth next to Quinn, who asked, "How's your modeling work going?"

"I'm doing mostly sports fashion now. So, my manager has me doing all these weight things to look the part. It's a lot of work."

"I bet," Stacy said.

"But it's been kind of weird," Tiffany explained. "Things don't make me as fat any more."

* * *

"Ooooh! I haven't been shopping like this in ages," Stacy said as the four young women entered the Lawndale Mall.

Quinn was again struck by how small it seemed compared to her memories and also how light the crowd was compared to the malls she visited in San Diego.

Sandi said, "Stacy, it kind of looks like it."

Stacy explained, "Um, well, I've mostly been buying clothes I can also use around Dad's shop. Uh, fashion stuff gets messed up real easy."

"Yeah," Tiffany added, "Stacy, remember what that grease did to your green top? It was so yucky."

Quinn pointed to a store. "I know. Why don't we start at Norman William's Cosmetics and get some manicures done? They always get me in the mood for shopping."

Stacy looked at her short, plain nails. "Manicures don't last long for me anymore. But, I'll sit and talk while you get yours done."

"You can get a hardening treatment, Stacy," Tiffany suggested.

"I suppose," Stacy admitted. "Okay, let's go."

Almost to the cosmetic store, the girls heard a piercing voice that they'd hoped had faded into memory.

"Come on, Skinny!" Mrs. Janet Barch commanded her husband, Tim Barch-O'Neill. "It's not that heavy."

He panted, "Sorry, Janet. I'm just a little winded."

"If I have to lug this around for nine months, you do too! Now put that weight harness back on. You're going to earn your paternity leave."

Quinn riveted her eyes to their destination. "Oh dear God, I don't want to see." 

Sandi said, "Not looking…"

"Eep!" was all Stacy managed to say.

Just as they made it to Norman Williams, Tiffany said, "Boy have they gotten fat."

* * *

While buffing Quinn's nails, the manicurist asked, "Where did you get such a nice tan?"

She answered, "I just got back from California."

"Oh," was the reply. "You are so lucky. All the tanning salons around here have such icky booths."

"You have to go out of town," Tiffany said. "There are some good ones near Baltimore. And some really cute guys that go to them."

"Now Stacy," the technician said to her charge, "The 'Diamond-Kote' will make your nails harder, but I don't know what that degreaser you mentioned will do to it. Nobody's ever asked." 

"Thanks anyway," Stacy said in return. "How about if I let you know?"

"Ah…sure Stacy. Just in case anyone else needs to know."

Speaking quietly, the manicurist told Sandi, "I've smoothed and evened the edges. Nobody will be able to tell you were biting your nails." Louder, she said, "The Strawberry Frost looks so good on your hands; they're going to look fabulous."

"Thanks." 

Quinn said, "Sandi has always had great nails." 

Tiffany said, "You know, getting our hair done would also be a great way to get ready for shopping."

Sandi ran her fingers through her hair. "Tiffany dear, that's an excellent idea. I think a new look is in order."

* * *

Quinn shrugged to herself as the stylist trimmed her hair. _I told Sandi my treat, and if it helps her feel better about herself, it's worth it._

Using fast, controlled rolls of his wrist, Sandi's stylist added curls to her newly blonde hair. He said, "The young men are going to be falling all over themselves over you."

"I'll have to make sure I take one off the top so they're not dirty," Sandi replied with a touch more haughtiness returning to her voice. 

"Ohmygod," Stacy said, "The colleges around here have so many nice guys. There's supposed to be a free movie night at the Lawndale U Student Union tonight. Why don't we go there after shopping?"

"They're showing _The French Patient_," Tiffany said. "That way the guys won't just try to watch the movie."

"I like it," Quinn said.

"Hmm." Sandi thought. "That might be a good idea, Stacy. Let's go."

* * *

School had let out for the day and the mall crowd swelled with students by the time they left the hair salon. In the lead, Quinn walked around a large planter next to a reflecting pool. She stepped to one side to allow a pair of teen or near-teen aged blond-haired kids and their parents get by.

The younger boy tugged on his father's shirt and said, "Mom, Dad. It's Quinn!" Tad Gupty turned his attention back to four girls. "Hi, Quinn!"

Tricia Gupty also smiled. "Hi, Quinn." 

"I'll be," Lester Gupty said. "It is." 

"Quinn, I like your new haircut," Lauren Gupty said.

_Boy have they grown_. She paused a moment, remembering their ages the last time she'd baby-sat them. _Oh wow, Tricia will be in high school next year._

"Thanks, Mrs. Gupty," Quinn directly answered Lauren's comment. "Hi everybody."

Quinn introduced everyone while desperately hoping that Tad didn't recognize her friends from that homecoming parade three years before.

Tricia said, "How's college?" 

"Okay, a lot more work than high school. You're starting high school next year, aren't you?"

Tricia nodded. "Yes. I'm excited. Although, I'm worried about all the stories I've heard of how popular people behave."

"Um, yeah." Quinn nervously laughed and glanced over her shoulder. Tiffany was looking at her reflection in the pool. Stacy appeared slightly embarrassed, while Sandi studied Tad, as if trying to figure out why he looked familiar.

Quinn looked back at Tricia. "You remember my sister, Daria?"

"How could I forget? Is she around somewhere?"

"No, she's in Boston. But, she's really the one to talk to about dealing with popular people." 

"I miss you and Daria baby-sitting," Tad said. "Now my sister does it."

"I'm sure she does a good job. It's been nice running into you, but we need to get going. Bye." 

After patiently hearing the Guptys' good-byes, Quinn managed to get Tiffany's attention and move her friends past the family. They were almost out of earshot when Quinn heard Tad say, "Hey, that was the animal abuser from the parade!"

Sandi asked, "Was that the boy that hopped on the parade float with Daria that one time?"

"Yeah Sandi, it was," Quinn answered.

"Has it been that long that he's grown that much?"

"Yes, Sandi."

Sandi traced her fingertips along the side of her face as she walked with the others toward Cashman's. She whispered, "Old?"

* * *

Quinn smoothed the brightly colored skirt and checked that the blouse was tucked in just right. Hearing a sigh, she said to the next dressing room, "Are you okay, Stacy?" 

"Oh, yes. Fine," Stacy replied with little enthusiasm. The brunette stared at the light blue summer dress in her hands and then the sturdy denim and cotton clothes she'd been wearing. Holding the dress in front, Stacy looked into one of the full-length mirrors and sighed again.

"Stacy?" Quinn asked again.

"Do you really think I'd look good in the powder blue dress?"

"Sure, Stacy, don't you think so?"

Stacy dropped her arms down and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know."

"What was that?" 

"Quinn, I don't know. I never know how I look in something."

"Stacy?"

"That's why I haven't been shopping. I never know what to get or what to buy or what to wear. I always relied on Sandi or you or Tiffany. Now with everyone gone, I don't know what to do, so I get stuff I know will work around Dad's shop and stuff."

"What about Tiffany? I'm sure she would help you."

"We, um, haven't stayed that close. Remember when Sandi broke her leg and you two resigned from the fashion club leaving only me and Tiffany? Without you or Sandi around…we kind of got on each other's nerves." 

"I didn't know."

"The same thing happened after you and Sandi left for school. So, we don't get together that much."

"I'm sorry. I thought you were excited about today."

"I am. We're all together again. Quinn, I liked having all of us together back in school. You know, it really didn't matter what we did, it was the 'us' part that was important. Now I'm realizing it's more than the clothes and stuff. It's about us. I don't need to try on the clothes. I just want us all to be together."

"Um, wow. That's really…wow. Um, I'm really happy to be with everyone, too. But maybe you're right. We need to remember that."

Stacy put the dress back on its hanger and started to get dressed in her regular clothes. "I hope you don't mind, but I think I'm done trying on clothes today."

"Oh, um, no Stacy. I don't mind."

* * *

Balancing shopping bags as they left Cashman's, Quinn said, "This really was a lot easier with the guys to help carry stuff. I miss them."

"What happened to them?" Sandi asked.

Stacy said, "Joey joined the Air Force. Jeffy's working in a casino in Atlantic City and…uh, Tiffany, where's Jamie?"

"Ohhh…he went to Key Largo. His uncle has a boat," Tiffany replied.

"That's right," Stacy acknowledged. "It's one of those boats that take tourists out fishing."

"Yuck, fish," Sandi said with a look of disgust.

"It's getting kinda late, why don't we have dinner at the food court before we go to that movie?" Quinn suggested.

"Sure, Quinn," Tiffany agreed.

* * *

Quinn and Sandi both set their salads on the table and looked at the roast beef sandwich Tiffany was eating. Sandi said, "Gee, Tiffany, isn't that a big change in your diet?" 

"Oh, yeah," Tiffany said. "My trainer likes me to eat more lean protein."

Stacy arrived with a children's size hamburger and a side salad. "Hi guys." 

Surprised, Quinn said, "A burger?"

Stacy sat down and shrugged. "They're not bad. Cluster Burger tastes better, though."

"But what about all the fat?" 

"I got tired of being hungry all the time," Stacy said with a little irritation.

"Sorry," Quinn said. "Um, it looks like things are going to be a little different than before."

"So, what's this free movie like at Lawndale U?" Sandi asked.

Stacy's excitement grew as she said, "They set up a screen at one end of the Student Union and a bunch of seats. In the back they have a snack bar with sodas and stuff. Beer if you have ID. You can watch the movie or hang out or whatever you like. It's fun."

* * *

The auditorium was much as Stacy had described it. A portable screen was in place at one end and a snack bar was set up at the other. A cluster of small tables also filled the space in front of the snack bar. Fifteen minutes before the movie was scheduled to start, the room was already filling with college students.

"Stacy!" a medium-build brunette said as they walked by. The newcomer wore a denim dress with a western-style shirt and cowboy boots that had a solid tapping sound as she walked. "These must be your friends from high school you've told me about."

"Hi, Erica. "Yeah, these are my friends, Quinn and Sandi and you've met Tiffany before. Everybody, this is Erica. She goes to Lawndale CC with me."

"Hi there," Quinn said.

"Hi," added Tiffany. 

_She's put on a little weight too, or always had it,_ Sandi thought. "Hi, Erica."

"Stacy, can I talk to you for a bit?" Erica asked.

"Sure." Stacy told her old friends, "I'll be back."

The remaining girls bought some diet sodas and sat down at one of the small tables. They made some small talk while waiting for Stacy, who failed to return by the time the room lights dimmed. Clusters of students drifted from the snack bar area to the movie seating, while others hung back to continue conversations without disturbing the move. 

"What could be taking Stacy so long?" Sandi asked. 

A muscular man wearing a Lawndale State jersey sat down next to Tiffany. "Hey, haven't I seen you at Brass's Gym?"

"I go there," Tiffany slowly replied.

"Is this a girls night out? Or would a little company be acceptable?" Without waiting for an answer, he waved to two friends. "Over here!" 

Two more well-toned men joined the first, who said, "I hope you don't mind."

Tiffany said, "Um, no. You're cute."

Quinn said, "I don't mind."

Sandi said, "Okay."

The new guys pulled up chairs and crowded around the table to talk.

Quinn asked, "Yeah, I wonder what happened to Stacy. I don't want her to feel left out." 

Tiffany pointed to the end of the snack bar, where Stacy and Erica were talking with two more young men. Tiffany said, "I don't think that's a problem."

The first man asked, "Are we going to see the movie?"

The girls agreed and they stood, followed by the boys. As they walked to the movie seats, Sandi said, "I'll be right with you."

She stopped at the snack bar and said, "A box of chocolate-covered raisins, please."

* * *

Halfway through the movie, Tiffany tapped Quinn on the wrist. "I'm leaving with Mitch to get a soda or something."

"I'll watch your seat," Quinn said in return.

"Um, no Quinn. We're not coming back to watch the movie, we're going somewhere else."

"Oh." 

Sandi asked, "What was that?"

"Oh, Tiffany's about to leave with, um, Mitch."

A little unsettled, Sandi said, "You don't want to see the end of the movie?"

"Uh, no Sandi. But, I had a good time today. We need to get together sometime and do it again. Bye." 

"Bye, Tiffany," Quinn said and waved.

Sandi sank down in her seat and slipped the box of candy out of her pocket. "Bye."

* * *

After the movie, Stacy dashed across the room to Quinn and Sandi. "Gosh, I'm sorry I didn't get back with you sooner. A couple of Erica's friends showed up and we started taking and everything and I forgot about the time and you know how that is." 

"It's not like there's any rule you have to stay with us the whole time, Stacy," Quinn said.

"I know, but I still wanted to let you know I didn't mean to blow you off or anything. I was just kind of distracted."

Quinn noticed the young man Stacy had been with earlier patiently waiting. "I'd call that a good kind of distracted."

"Oh, um, you noticed."

Quinn folded her arms. "If I don't notice a good-looking guy, I'm probably dead."

"Good. I know this was a day for us girls, but do you mind if…I, um…" 

Sandi said, "Stacy, I'm not president anymore and Quinn's not vice president. You don't need our permission."

"I know, Sandi. But, it just seemed kind of rude not to tell you." 

"Oh. Thanks, then," Sandi said.

"I was hoping you'd understand. Good night!" Stacy grinned and skipped more than ran back to her date.

Sandi scowled and said, "For nothing."

"Sandi?"

"It's like, I haven't seen them in six months and they can't even stay around for one day?"

"Those were cute guys they left with." 

"That's what you give guys your phone number for!" Sandi exploded. "So that they can call you back later!" 

Quinn stepped back in shock.

The stress, pain and fear of the previous year found its release. Sandi felt the pain of her mother's multiple betrayals and then disowning her. She felt the frustration at her father's wretched capitulation to the process. She felt the loss and loneliness of a new school, one where a reputation caused by her old haughtiness caused most to avoid her. Her one hope had been to come back to her old friends and the way things were. A hope now gone.

Through tears and rage, she screamed, "Dammit! You three were my only real friends and…and…" Sandi kicked a chair, causing it to skid across the floor. "They've left me like everyone else has!"

Quinn stepped over and grabbed her friend's arm. "Sandi, you're making a scene. We better get you out…"

"They just didn't care!" Out of control, Sandi lashed out and slapped Quinn. "Nobody freakin' cares!"

The resounding sound of the slap drew attention from those nearby as Quinn held a hand to her face. She stared at Sandi, not really comprehending what had just happened.

"Go on!" Sandi screamed. "Run away like those two. I know you want to!"

One of the men in the crowd, a black-haired guy who slopped beer out of a plastic cup as he wobbled more than walked, called, "Cool! Chick fight!"

One of his equally unstable buddies joined in. "Where's the chocolate pudding!"

A third said, "Ten bucks on the blonde!" 

"Hah!" One more said, "Fifteen on the redhead!"

The second yelled, "Come on, Red! Knock her lights out!"

Sandi stared at the drunken onlookers for several seconds and then her hand. The emotional pain vanished and a surge of embarrassment caused her to run out of the room.

The sudden disappearance caused Quinn to break out of her shock. "Sandi!" she yelled and chased after.

The first drunk unsuccessfully tried to follow, but fell face first on the floor. "Crap! I wanted to see them make up!"

* * *

Winded by the sudden run, Sandi stopped and leaned against a car in the parking lot as she tried to catch her breath. In better shape, Quinn reached her soon after.

"Why?" Quinn asked in anger and dismay.

Breath ragged, Sandi said, "Too tired. Not used to this. Why'd you come after me?" 

"I'm your friend, dammit!" Quinn yelled.

"Are you?"

"Yes! Sandi, I'm sorry I haven't been around, but I'm here now! Why'd you hit me?"

Sandi sank down to the still warm pavement, her eyes focused somewhere in the far distance. "Nobody else is around. Nobody. They all left me alone. I can't even go home to get Fluffy."

Anger vanishing into worry, Quinn squatted next to Sandi. "You're not alone. I'm here. Like I was after you broke your leg." 

Noticing her friend, Sandi said, "Oh, my God. Your face!"

Quinn moved her hand back to the growing bruise, taking time to wipe away a couple tears. "It's not that bad," she said, knowing how much of a lie it was.

"Yes, it is. I hit…and, damn." Sandi went silent and stared at Quinn. 

"Nothing a little, okay, a lot, of concealer won't hide."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Quinn realized that they really needed to leave before the inside crowd searched them out. She tried to joke, "But, I think you scared off our dates."

Sandi let out a faint laugh. "That's okay. Mine was kind of boring."

"Mine wasn't that great either."

Sandi pushed herself up, feeling very tired and world-weary. She asked, "Can we go home?" 

"Let's get out of here," Quinn said.

* * *

The following afternoon, Quinn and Sandi were in an office of Cashman's department store. The nameplate on the desk before them read, "Alicia Cohen." A woman with light brown hair reached across it and said, "Welcome back, Quinn," as she shook the younger woman's hand. Next, she said, "And welcome to Cashman's, Sandi."

"Thanks, Miss Cohen," Sandi gratefully said.

Alicia sat back down. "Quinn, there's a slot open in the Children's Department. It's yours for the asking."

"I'll take it," Quinn answered. 

"Sandi, I think we'll start you in the Bed and Bath Department."

"Okay," Sandi said, not certain of anything more to add.

* * *

In a pair of plain pajamas, Sandi sat on her bed and stroked the hair on a stuffed, white cat resting on it. "We're lucky Quinn didn't kick us out."

She yawned and rubbed her face. "I'm tired."

Sandi set the toy on the window and crawled back into bed, turning off the table light on the way.

Curling into a fetal position under the blanket, she whispered, "You're not alone. You're not alone."

* * *

At the same time, Quinn looked out of her window as she talked on the cell phone. "Oh, the look on their faces must've been priceless, Fran."

Lying on her bed, Fran said, "It already made my summer. How'd that girls' night out go with your old friends?"

"Mostly good, but it kind of ended bad. Tiffany and Stacy cut out early with some guys they met."

"Bummer. How mad are you at them?" 

"A bit. Sandi was really hurt."

"Sounds like the four of you have grown apart."

"Yeah, I think you're right."

"It happens. Oh, Beth says that dinner's ready. Sorry things didn't work out better. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, later. Bye, Fran." 

"Bye, Quinn."

Quinn turned the phone off and set it down on her nightstand before turning off the light. She pulled the covers up.

_We have grown apart. We'll still see each other this summer, but it won't be like before. But next year? I don't know. The Fashion Club is really over._

Quinn tightly hugged her stuffed dinosaur.

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

January, 2006


	17. Apartment for Rent

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the forty-fourth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Apartment for Rent**

Todd Baker placed the last packing box in the trunk of his metallic blue car and closed the lid as his soon to be ex-roommate pulled up in a silver sedan. He called out, "Hey, Michael, any luck finding an apartment?"

Michael Fulton shook his head as he stepped out. "No."

"Dude, we're supposed to be out of the dorms by five."

"No kidding. Can I crash with your folks for a couple days?"

"Sorry. My dad's repainting my room and I'm going to be on the couch for a couple days myself. Can't your girlfriend put you up?"

"I'm sure Daria would be fine with it, but I'm not certain about her roommate."

"Jane seemed pretty cool the couple times I've met her."

"She is, but…you know. A strange guy staying in her place? I can see where it would make her uncomfortable."

"Like you're all that strange. Look, it's that or a hotel."

"I better call her."

* * *

Jane Lane pulled down her apartment's driveway and parked her phoenix-emblazoned black sedan behind Michael's. Walking past the car, she noticed the back and passenger seats filled with cardboard boxes. "Looks like he hasn't found a place yet."

She jogged up the exterior stairs to the second floor apartment and went inside. She smirked and called out, "Honey, I'm home!"

Seated at the dining table with Michael, Daria Morgendorffer returned with, "It's about time. Your dinner's getting cold."

Jane plopped down at a free seat and started to spoon a "one skillet wonder" onto a plate. "God, I'm starving. Hi, Michael."

Daria said, "If you can spare a second, we need to ask you something." 

A forkful of food already in her mouth, Jane mumbled, "G' head."

Michael said, "Will you mind if I stay here a few days until I can find an apartment?"

Jane marginally raised her eyebrows. "Why would I mind?" 

"Well, because…"

"You're Daria's boyfriend. Look, as long as you two keep the volume down, I don't mind." Jane started laughing almost as soon as she finished saying it in response to their momentary surprise.

"Funny, Lane," Daria said.

Jane said, "Don't worry. Though I wonder what Helen might say."

"Quinn started her cross-country drive home today from California. We better not give her anything else to think about."

"Good point." Jane stabbed her fork back into dinner. "So, Michael. What kind of place are you looking for?"

"Someplace with a roof that doesn't leak, that I don't have to share with the local six-legged wildlife, and preferably with indoor plumbing." 

"And that doesn't cost an arm, leg or other important body parts?" Jane added.

Michael nodded.

"Anyone lined up as a roommate?"

"Unfortunately, no. The other history students I know have places already or have left for the summer. Todd's staying with his folks over the summer to save money. He blew more than he expected over spring break. Probably have to sublet and take my chances."

Daria shook her head. "Can't be any worse than the dorm lottery."

Michael remembered his first dorm roommate. "Well, not if they're human."

* * *

Bleary-eyed, Michael streaked the yellow highlighter pen over a classified ad from the Sunday paper. "You three got lucky finding this place." 

Daria gazed around the living/dining room. "We did, but trust me; we looked at some real dives before we found this. And if we behaved like a lot of college students, we'd have been kicked out long ago."

"So that's why you've never thrown a kegger."

"Plus the whole underage bit."

"So next fall, you're going to throw one for your twenty-first birthday?" 

"Sure, but it'll be at your place."

Michael folded the paper. "That's about all within my price range. Several efficiencies and a couple sublets scattered all over Boston. I'll start calling during lunch tomorrow to see them."

"Let me know, I'm still willing to go with."

"I'll call your cell phone after five with the plan, or lack of."

Hearing the ringing, Daria said, "Speaking of phones." She stepped over to the telephone and answered, "Hello."

"Hi, Daria. This is Samantha; I'm returning Michael's call."

"Hi. He's right here." Daria carried the handset to Michael. "Your mother."

"Thanks." He said into the phone, "Hi, Mom."

"Michael. So, you have to stay with Daria," Samantha teased. "Are you sure that wasn't your plan from the beginning?"

"You know it was!" Michael's younger sister Gina called from behind Samantha.

Michael said, "Let me guess, Gina got to the answering machine first." 

"She's expecting a call from Roger."

"And she complained about me being geeky in high school." 

"Michael…" Samantha warned.

He grinned. "He is a geek. And I'm glad she's seeing someone like him." 

"He is a nice boy. Better than that Neville character." 

"Hey! If you're going to talk about me, let me in on it!" Gina cried.

Samantha told her, "Michael was just saying that he's glad you're seeing someone like Roger." 

"Oh, jeez! Don't let that get out!" Gina said in a faux panic.

"Ah, power," Michael said.

Samantha steered the conversation back on course. "So, how long do you plan on staying there?"

"Only a couple days, I hope. I've got a bunch of possible places from today's paper. I'll start looking at them tomorrow."

"Make sure you don't outstay your welcome."

"Yes, Mom." 

"Okay. Let us know as soon as you have your new address and phone number."

"I will."

"We're still looking forward to seeing you during vacation this July." 

"I'm looking forward to seeing everyone. Even Gina." 

"I'll tell her. Goodbye and good luck."

"I can use it. Bye, Mom."

He turned off the handset and placed it on the table. "There, I've checked in with home base and received my dose of sisterly abuse and returned it in kind." 

Daria gently smiled. "Abusing your younger sister. It is one of life's simple pleasures."

* * *

Daria looked at Michael. "The sofa? Is there something wrong?"

He sat on the bed and shook his head. "No, no. Nothing wrong. It's just…sleeping with you would be a disincentive for me to find a place." Michael watched Daria as he continued. "As much as I dearly would love to stay here, I need to be out on my own for a while. I've lived with my folks or in the dorm my whole life. It's time I got out and grew up some more. There's a lot I still need to learn."

Daria sat beside him. "I can understand that. But, I want you to sleep with me while you're here." She slid one arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. "This is my house and if you're going to stay, you have to live by my rules." 

Michael smiled and returned her kiss. "You've waited a long time to say that, haven't you?"

"Yes, though I didn't expect to use it under these exact conditions."

* * *

After work the next day, Michael stepped off an MBTA bus at the front of Raft University. Still wearing his Park Service uniform, he hurried across the quad to the Raft University Press, where Daria was waiting. 

After a hug and kiss, they walked to her car in the staff parking lot. Michael said, "How was your day?"

"I survived. I think I may have that stupid library fine fixed. But, I'm not holding my breath," she said. "How was yours?" 

"One of the older guides said it best, 'Why do they call it tourist season when we can't shoot them?'"

"Let's hope you don't have to shoot anything in the apartments we look at." 

"Voice of experience?"

"Karen said they saw some roaches you could put a saddle on when helping my cousin Erin look."

"Are we sure they're not some mutants her boyfriend created?"

"Nah. He's trying to make featherless chickens with six wings and six drumsticks." 

As he waited for Daria to unlock the car, Michael pulled out the folded classified ads and said, "The closest one is a quad apartment looking for someone to sublet."

"Wouldn't be my first choice."

"Not really mine, but I'm well down the list from my first choice."

* * *

A tall, blond man showed Michael around the apartment. The walls and furniture were well-worn, but the residents had at least made an effort to pick up the place. The living room was dominated by a large TV and an impressive stereo system along the wall facing a tired sofa.

"The rooms are all down the hall. Each one has its own bathroom." 

"That's a plus," Michael said.

"The kitchen is over there, if you're into trying to cook. Be careful though; we took the batteries out of the smoke detector, so don't burn anything."

Wary, Michael said, "Okay." 

In the hallway, three of the room doors were closed. Daria whispered, "Guess where all the crap is?"

The open room had a single bed, dresser and nightstand. On the wall opposite the bed, Michael noticed a cluster of dart holes in the wall, with a bare, round spot in the center where the target must have been. He asked, "What about that?"

"Don't worry. The landlord already hit up the last guy to pay for that. Dumbass should've been a better shot."

"Right.

"By the way, what kind of tunes are you bringing with?"

"Hmm?" 

"What kind of music? For the stereo."

"Kind of a mix."

"Well, just wanted to know. Just in case."

"Of what?"

"You know. If somebody wants a change of sound or something."

The front door loudly banged open and someone yelled, "Hey! Where's the ice and the barrel?"

"Excuse me," their guide said and rushed out. Michael looked up at the ceiling, to regrettably see even more dart holes. Daria made a face and suspiciously looked at the door.

In the living room, their guide said, "You're early. I'm still showing Eddie's old room to someone."

There was a loud thud of something hitting the floor. "Hey, no problem. They can join in," was the reply from a new voice.

"Dude, we need someone to start paying for that room now. We don't want to scare anyone off until they've signed."

"Aw, man. Why don't we just find a good partier and not worry about that crap."

"Because we want somebody who can pay the rent, dumbass!"

Michael and Daria walked out to the living room. The new arrival had dropped a keg of beer on the kitchen floor and was arguing with the guide. "But I don't want somebody who's gonna whine about stuff." He changed his voice to imitate another. "Keep it down, I need to study. Hey, I want to sleep. Waaahhh!"

Michael took Daria's hand and they made a quick, quiet exit from the apartment.

* * *

Michael and Daria looked at the converted warehouse with trepidation. He said, "I guess you could call it rustic."

"More like rusted," Daria amended. "Are you sure you want to go any further?"

"The inside might look better." 

"Or worse."

They found the key inside a fake rock under an unkempt shrub, just like the landlord said. "High tech security. I'm impressed."

Daria said, "I'm getting the feeling that even the owner doesn't want to be here. That should be a warning."

Several roaches scurried out of the light when he opened the door. One remained on the stair railing facing them, waving its antennae. Michael said, "I think I've seen enough. When the roaches dare you to enter, it's time to leave." 

He locked and closed the door, depositing the key inside the fake rock. Starting to walk away, Michael allowed his arm to drag through the foliage. His hand hit a small wasp nest inside the canopy and one of the angry residents quickly stung his hand.

Snapping his hand back, Michael saw the offender buzz back to the shrub. "Dammit!"

Daria turned her head. "What?" 

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap." He started walking quickly to Daria's car.

Jogging to catch up, Daria asked, "What?"

"A wasp just nailed my hand." 

"Oh, crap."

Michael stopped at the car and steadied himself on the hood. His breathing became strained and he felt his throat. "I was afraid of that."

Worried, Daria said, "What can I do?"

He pulled a tube from his pocket and unscrewed the cap, placing it on the hood. "Drive me to the hospital."

Michael slid an injector out and placed the empty tube next to the cap. He pulled the safety and held the injector in his fist over one thigh. He gritted his teeth and said, "I hate this."

In a swift motion, he swung the injector against his leg. He grunted when the spring-loaded needle entered the muscle and the injection started. Following a slow count to ten, Michael pulled the needle out and massaged the muscle for another ten count.

He popped the injector back into the tube and screwed it shut until a locking click was felt. Michael carefully got into the passenger seat and said, "Go."

* * *

"Is that pollen on your car hood, or are the trees having an orgy! A Sick, Sad World prime time exclusive, tomorrow at eight!" blared the TV as Daria and Michael finally made it back.

Jane poked her head up over the sofa. "It's about time you kids got home. Do you have any idea of how late it is?"

Seeing Michael pale and moving slowly, Jane sat up straight. "Whoa, what happened?" 

"I got stung. Spent three hours in the hospital getting checked out, treated, and sent home to rest at least a day." 

"Ouch. Did you at least have any luck with the hunt?" 

He shook his head. "No, and we only got to look at two places."

"No offense," Jane said. "But you better let Daria put you to bed. You look awful."

He lightly laughed. "Then I look better than I feel."

Daria guided him to her room. "But Jane's advice was actually good. Now, you're going to bed."

* * *

Resting on one elbow, Daria watched Michael sleeping beside her. His sleep-tossed hair gave him a boyish appearance. With her other hand, Daria softly touched his cheek and whispered, "Don't scare me like that again."

The touch caused Michael to smile and sigh in his sleep.

"You're right; it's very tempting to ask you to just stay here," Daria whispered more as she pushed her auburn hair from her face. "Part of me wants that so much." 

She watched his soft breathing for a minute. Daria continued to whisper, "I once thought that I might end up alone with only a herd of cats for company. I never expected to meet someone like you, let alone my first semester of college." Her gaze moved to the ring finger of the hand stroking Michael's cheek. _I sometimes wonder what things might've been like if I'd said yes._

Daria's eyes closed. _But, I know we weren't ready then. Or now. Everyone's always said I was mature for my age, but I still think I need to grow more before I'm ready to completely share my life like that._

A soft kiss on her palm made Daria open her eyes. Michael said, "Good morning."

She smiled and said, "Good morning to you." _Someday, I will be ready._

Michael held her hand and said, "Sorry I have to laze around here all day." 

Daria leaned down and gave him a soft kiss. "You sat around with me while I was sick; time for me to return the favor." 

Michael put on a sly grin. "Does that mean you'll be bringing lunch to me?"

"I'll be at school then." She moved the sheet aside and slipped out of bed, straightening her nightgown in the process. "But, I think I might be able to do something about breakfast."

* * *

Alone in the apartment, Michael carefully picked up a black marker pen. His hand ached from the sting as he grasped it and started scanning the ads he'd marked in the paper. "That little bit of inattention took a bite out of my checkbook." Here and there as he reread the advertisements, he crossed out those that were no longer within his budget.

Feeling down, he refolded the newspaper after finishing the listings. The Victorian era colors of cream for the walls and a dark green on the window frames and wainscoting seemed right for the old house. Contrasting the traditional was the unconventional of several Jane Lane originals adorning the walls. The second-hand furniture didn't match the decor or each other, but still provided a warm comfort to the living and dining room. Daria's black cat slumbered on the sofa back. Michael remembered helping to move the sofa into the apartment, provided by Daria and Jane's roommate Karen, who was spending the summer with her family in Georgia. "This is their apartment. The whole place says Daria, Jane and Karen. It wouldn't feel right for me to stay here long."

He pushed back from the table and turned to the hallway leading to Daria's room and thought about earlier. Tired and unsteady from his close call the day before, going to sleep in her arms was wonderfully reassuring. This morning waking to see her deep brown eyes reminded him of how lucky he was. "No matter how tempting it may be," he added to his earlier thought with a sigh.

He wandered into the kitchen and picked up a well-worn book from the counter. "I love her. But there so much more I need to be. So much more that she deserves."

"Hmm. _1001 Dorm Recipes for Hot Plate, Microwave and Toaster Oven, Revised Edition._ Maybe there's something in here simple enough for even me to make."

* * *

Daria sniffed the air as she entered the apartment. "That's sweet." She called louder, "Thanks for having something delivered." 

Michael looked out from the kitchen. "I didn't." 

Daria looked at him with great concern. "You better not have been driving around."

"Nope."

Daria's eyes widened with greater concern. "Did you try to cook?" 

"Um, I suppose I deserve that after some of my earlier attempts. This time, I think I may have succeeded and finally put the 'ramen noodle incident' behind me."

"You think?" 

"I wanted to make sure someone else was here before I tasted it. Just in case."

Michael ducked back into the kitchen and dipped a spoon into a pot. "Here goes."

Daria watched intently. "Well?"

"You'll want to add some salt, but it's not lethal."

"It does smell good."

He held up a copy of the cookbook. "I need to find a copy."

"That was a graduation present from my Aunt Amy. If Jane and I can learn to cook from it, I don't see why you couldn't." Daria walked over and kissed Michael. "By the way, thanks for making dinner. Even though you were supposed to be resting."

"I wanted to do something for you." 

Daria shook her head and hugged him. "You're incorrigible. Stay that way."

He gently put his arms around Daria the way she liked and felt her cheek rest against his chest. "If you insist."

"Are you going to need someone to hold your hand tomorrow while apartment hunting?" 

"At the rate I'm going, I need a good get-away driver."

* * *

Michael waited on a bench near the Park Service office. His boss, a tall man with snow-white hair, waved and called, "Good night."

"Good night. Thanks for letting me get a little overtime today to make up for yesterday."

About ten minutes later, Daria pulled into the parking lot. She rolled down the window and said, "Sorry. They changed the travel lanes around the Big Dig again and, you know."

Michael leaned in and gave her a kiss. "You're worth the wait. The first place isn't very far from here. Be kind of nice for work."

He walked around the car and got into the passenger seat. Michael pulled out his newspaper and said, "We'll need to use the north exit from the lot."

* * *

The brownstone building was almost nondescript, the street number the only thing that distinguished it from any of others. Michael in the lead, they went up the narrow stairs toward the apartment advertised as needing a roommate.

Daria said, "This place had better be furnished. I can't see how you can move furniture up this stairwell." 

"I think the below-deck stairs on the USS Constitution are wider," Michael replied.

Wads of paper and stray beer cans were scattered on the landing that three doors faced. Michael double-checked the address and knocked on the door marked 'C'.

A college-age man with grimy brown hair opened the door and belched. He scratched his stomach and said, "Yeah?" 

"I was…uh, were you advertising for a roommate?" 

"Yeah." The man grabbed Michael's hand and shook it. "Come on in. It ain't much, but it's home."

Michael wiped his hand on his pant leg and stood at the door. The smell rolling out was a vile mixture of old sweat, very cheap cologne, rancid milk and quite possibly, some kind of rotten meat. An immensely large and fat fly buzzed past his head and out of the door. 

Daria tugged on his arm and gave him a fake, sappy smile. Throwing a higher pitch to her voice, she said, "You said you were going to get a nice place. I don't like this." She batted her eyes at him.

The guy turned around. "Aw, man. Are you so whipped you're gonna let your chick tell you where to stay?" 

Michael lamely shrugged.

The guy frowned and said, "Look, I don't wanna hear that kind of crap. Maybe you're not the kind of roommate I'm looking for."

Michael said, "Uh, I think you're right. Sorry for taking up your time." 

Rushing out of the building and back to Daria's car, Michael said, "Thanks for the save. I'd rather have my freshman dorm roommate than that guy."

Daria unlocked the car. "Just remember: nobody, and I mean nobody, hears about what I did up there to get us out."

"Absolute silence, I promise."

* * *

The landlord said, "You look like a good kid." He dropped a manila folder on small dining table of the efficiency apartment and said, "Here's the lease agreement. Take a quick look at it and sign where I highlighted in yellow. I'll take a check for the first and last months' rent plus one month for a security deposit. When you're done, lock the door and drop off the application and the check at my office downstairs." He quickly left, leaving Daria and Michael alone. 

Michael opened the thick folder and said, "Since when do leases run for thirty pages?"

Daria looked past him and said, "I don't even know if Mom could write a lease that long. What the hell's in that thing?"

He flipped through the pages. "It looks like there's a one and a half page procedure on how to report a maintenance problem." He skimmed some more. "A six page checklist enumerating every fixture in the apartment and its condition at the time of rental."

Daria flipped a couple more pages. "Allowable cleaning products to use per surface area?"

"I think it's time to run away," Michael said as he closed the folder.

"Very fast," Daria agreed as she stepped out of the apartment with Michael and he locked the door.

* * *

_Afterglow, a perfect description,_ Daria thought as she cuddled against Michael's bare chest and felt his arms softly encircling her. She sighed with contentment and said, "That was a nice way to start the morning."

Michael kissed her forehead and traced a finger along her spine, causing her to arch in pleased response. He said, "I'll be in a good mood all day."

"At least until you see this afternoon's apartments," she replied with a slight tease.

"I've got a good feeling about today."

Daria slid up to reach his lips and kissed them. "Are you sure it's not just a good feeling about what we just finished?"

Michael pulled her closer and stroked the back of her head. "I feel wonderful about that."

* * *

After work, Michael jogged up the stairs to Daria's apartment.

Inside, Daria was talking on the phone. "I'm glad you made it home all right, Quinn. Hey, Michael just walked in the door, so I need to get going. Sure, I'll tell him. Bye." She turned off the cordless phone and said, "Hi, Michael. That was Quinn; she also says 'hi' and hopes you can find a place soon."

He closed the door and walked over to Daria. "Tell her 'hi' the next time you talk. I want to change out of my work clothes before we head out." 

She said, "I'm ready when you are."

As he leaned down to kiss her, Michael playfully said, "Maybe when we get back."

Daria looked over the top of her glasses afterward and said. "That really is all that guys think of." 

"Um…that's why we dinosaurs have two brains?" He replied.

"With one close to the only place it's needed. I can believe that."

Cleaning paint from her hands with a rag, Jane walked out of her room. "Not that Daria's really complaining," she said and ducked the wadded paper thrown at her.

Daria followed up with, "I'll remember that the next time Mack visits."

"Who says I'm complaining?" Jane shot back.

Awakening, Bump looked at them from her perch on the windowsill and loudly meowed.

Jane pointed to the spayed cat. "Okay, you can complain."

* * *

Nose buried in printed map directions, Daria said, "The next place should be in the middle of the next block and on the left." Noticing that Michael wasn't slowing, she looked up and saw the building go by her window. "You just missed it."

"I'll pass. I saw the two…'sidewalk entrepreneurs'…on the corner. I really prefer to keep my distance from that, if at all possible." 

Daria looked back over her shoulder at a pair of men exchanging money with the passenger of a parked car. "I'd like you to keep your distance, too."

* * *

"The kitchen is a little small, but I figure that won't be a problem for a single guy like you," the apartment manager said as he pointed to the closet-sized room.

He moved next to the small bathroom. "As you can see, everything is conveniently close together in here." 

Michael looked at the space barely large enough to stand in situated between the toilet, sink and shower. "That's one way of putting it."

Finally, he pulled the single bed down from where it was folded against the wall in the main room. "Everything works fine and the mattress is only a couple years old." 

Michael looked around. "I still have one more place I was going to look at. But, can I have the paperwork to get started on in case I decide on this place?"

The manager said, "Right here," and opened his briefcase. After a moment's search, he handed Michael a small packet of stapled pages. "It's first come, first served."

"Got it."

Back in Michael's car, Daria said, "You are getting desperate. That place is smaller than a dorm room."

"I really don't need much space."

* * *

A man with close-cropped brown hair opened the door. "Are you here about the sublet ad?"

"Yes, I'm Michael Fulton." 

"Lewis Burkheart," the other man said as he shook hands with Michael.

"This is my girlfriend, Daria." 

"Interesting name. Nice to meet you."

"Hi," Daria said.

Lewis stepped into the living room. "Guess you'll want the grand tour. Pretty basic living room. The kitchen is on the other side of that counter. Room for one person to cook, but two's asking a bit much unless they're real close."

He led them to a short hallway. "One bathroom. My room's on the right, the open one is on the left."

Michael and Daria went inside that room. It was slightly larger than Daria's and had a fair-sized closet against one wall. The single window looked out over the street of small shops and upstairs apartments.

Lewis continued explaining. "The phone and cable jacks are on that wall. The heat works pretty good in the winter. The summer air conditioning leaves a lot to be desired, but it's better than nothing."

Back to the living room, they talked for several minutes about more apartment details, party attitudes and general behavior of roommates. Finally, Lewis said, "And, the rent's due the first of the month. Any other questions?"

"If I move in right away, I assume you'll pro-rate my part of the rent?" Michael asked.

"If you can move in right away, that'd be great. I'm a grad student at Hlaford University and have about thirty dollars to last through the month."

Michael looked at Daria, who returned a look of "You have to ask?"

Lewis walked into the kitchen, leaned against the counter and said, "But, before we go any farther, I'm gay. Will that be a problem?" 

Michael stood with his head slightly tilted. "Uh…um…I don't know. It's not something I've really thought about." 

"Well, you're not backpedaling out of the door." 

"This is the best deal I've seen in two weeks. It's a good apartment; you don't smoke cigars or have fungus growing on your laundry or have leases that could frighten a lawyer. I like it, but I've never really associated with anyone who was gay before." 

"You probably have, you just don't realize it." 

"Okay, that I knew about. I don't think it'll be a problem, but I really don't know."

"At least you're honest about it. However, remember that it's not just me. People will make assumptions about you."

"I'm willing to take a chance."

"Then so will I."

Michael said, "Everything I have with me fits in my car. I can move in tomorrow."

"Looks like we have a deal." Lewis came around the counter. "I'll give you a key before you leave. I have to work tomorrow night."

* * *

As Michael settled under the sheet next to Daria, he said, "Last night together like this. I'm going to miss it."

"Me too. I'm glad you found a place to stay." Daria looked into his eyes expectantly. "I hope you don't take this wrong. Having you sleep with me feels special and I want it to stay that way for a while yet. I'm not ready for it to be an everyday occurrence."

Michael gently smiled back. "I think I know what you mean. Being with you is like nothing else I could imagine. Savoring the memory of each time and anticipating the next. I want to keep that going for a while, too."

"I'm glad you understand," Daria said as she held him close. He closed his arms around her and kissed her goodnight.

Both thought, _But I also look forward to when I can be with you every night._

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer and Ipswichfan for beta reading.

March 2006


	18. Lindy Lane

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the forty-fifth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Lindy Lane**

Watching the ancient rubber tires disintegrate and fall away from the rims of the old tractor as he winched it onto the tow truck, the driver asked Trent Lane, "How long has that thing been sitting here?"

Standing in the backyard of his childhood home, the young man scratched his goatee and said, "Dunno. Been here as long as I can remember."

Trent's bandmates Jesse and Nick picked up the rubber fragments and tossed them into a rental trailer hitched to Trent's black SUV. Jesse picked up a rusty disk from where one of the rear tires of the tractor had rested. After brushing away dirt from the face, he managed to read the faded printing and asked Nick, "Who's McGovern?"

Nick shrugged and said, "Beats me." He yelled at the fourth band member, "Max! Who's McGovern?"

Max dropped an armload of loose debris into the trailer and said, "Wasn't she the chick that sang Jane's favorite song? You know, from the shipwreck movie?"

Jesse guessed, "Titanic?"

Nick said, "I thought that was the Canadian chick."

"No, you idiots," Max said. "The old shipwreck movie."

Quinn Morgendorffer looked out of kitchen window and saw the discussion starting. "Uh-oh Lindy, they're distracted again."

Lindy Weaver joined Quinn at the window, saying, "The tractor's gone. I feel a lot better now." She put her arm around Quinn's shoulder. "You have to deal with Mystic Spiral on their own terms. We still have a week to go."

"It's going to be so cute to say your vows in the gazebo. But, are you sure it's safe?"

Lindy laughed and said, "It's probably the safest thing out there. Trent says that it fell down a couple years ago and Janey paid to have it rebuilt."

"Jane?"

"She thought she was doing Wind a favor. Turned out to be a misunderstanding and Jane wanted to kill him afterward."

"That sounds like Jane."

The ringing telephone drew Lindy across the kitchen to answer it. "Hello? Hi, Mom…They're working on it now…It'll be ready…" Lindy sighed and listened, making occasional, noncommittal sounds to indicate she was still awake. Finally, she had a chance to speak again. "Because it will be our house, it seems right to be married at it…Then think of all the money you're saving not having to rent a hall somewhere…Besides, where would we get one this close?…I should've known you had one in mind before asking. No, we're not changing. The wedding is going to be here…That's not negotiable…Good, glad you agree…Look, Quinn and Amanda are helping me get the decorations up; I need to get going. Okay, bye."

Lindy slammed the phone down and rested her head on the counter. "I'm going to kill her. I swear I'm going to kill her."

"Your mom's really getting flaky about this, isn't she?"

Lindy looked up. "I'm her only daughter and the only chance for her to do the fantasy wedding she never had."

"I'm figuring Daria will get married first, so Mom will get it out of her system. I hope."

Lindy's laugh relieved some of her worry. "That's mean. But, if I had an older sister, I'd wish the same thing."

* * *

Amanda Lane led her guest around the side of the house to the back yard. The woman following was slightly taller and generally heavier. Mrs. Weaver had pale blond hair trimmed to ride just above her shoulders. 

A path of pale red paving stones went from the back door of the house to the gazebo, freshly cleaned and sealed. Decades of accumulated debris was gone from the yard and fresh sod covered what had been bare ground only a couple days before.

Amanda held her hands together. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"That's it?" Mrs. Weaver asked.

Not noticing the disappointment in the other woman's voice, Amanda said, "Yes. I can't wait to see all the butterflies."

"And I can't believe that they're releasing a bunch of bugs for a wedding."

Amanda said, "They understand that if you hold a butterfly in your hand, it will die."

"Oh, spare me."

Amanda smiled and said, "Oh, then you understand, too."

* * *

At an old work table in the basement, Lindy cleaned up the last of three mirrors held in stained-glass frames. "There. The gifts for my attendants are done. Nothing like pushing a deadline." She carefully put each in a silver and gold gift box and sealed them shut. 

Gifts stacked together and carried with both arms, Lindy climbed up to her and Trent's room. At the door, she stopped and leaned against the frame, watching her fiancé softly snore. "My head's about to explode and you're able to sleep."

She set the boxes down on the dresser and went to him, kissing his cheek. "One of the things I love about you. No matter how bad things feel, I know you'll be there as an anchor of calm."

Lindy opened her closet, and then the garment bag hanging inside. The soft, white fabric and fine lace brought a glad tear to her eye. "One more day."

* * *

Jane looked at Daria loading her laptop computer into the car. "I can't believe you have to do that." 

Daria shrugged. "If I finish proofreading the manuscript, I'll get a full day's pay and Dr. Findlay won't gripe about me not being there."

"The man's a slave-driver."

Daria sat down in Jane's car and said, "No, slaves get health care. Besides, it'll distract me from your driving."

Jane sat down and started the car. "I'd have thought Michael would be a preferable distraction."

"We're not giving you a free show."

"Dammit," Jane said with a friendly laugh as she put the car in gear. Pulling out onto the street, she added, "Trent getting hitched. Don't get me wrong, Lindy's cool, but it still feels so weird."

"I know what you mean." Daria watched the houses go by her window. "But, not the same way."

"Huh?"

"He was my big high school crush, remember?"

Jane snickered. "You used to imagine…?"

"So it feels a little strange to picture him marrying someone else."

"Are you going to make a big statement during the 'does anyone have good reason' bit?"

"Yeah, to warn Lindy that she's getting you as a sister-in-law."

"The entire Lane clan is expected. I'm going to be the least of her worries."

After riding another block in silence, Daria said, "I hope they're going to be happy."

Jane nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Lindy is pretty cool, I think they will." Jane quickly looked at Daria. "Does this make you think about you and Michael?"

Daria shot back, "Does it make you think about you and Mack?"

"We have a great time together, but are nowhere near the 'M' word. You can't distract me that easily, Morgendorffer. What about it?"

"Yes, it makes me think."

"And?"

Daria thought of Michael and softly smiled. "Shh, I'm thinking."

* * *

"Not bad. I'm done in less than six hours and I'm getting paid for ten. I wish I could do this more often," Daria said as she closed her laptop computer and placed it into its case. 

"And no comment about my choice of radio stations the whole trip. I could do this, too," Jane teased. She looked down the street at the cars parked in the Morgendorffer driveway. "I see Quinn's car; I guess the yellow one must be Sandi's." She looked at Daria. "I just thought of something. If Sandi's in the guest room, where's Michael going to stay?"

Daria zipped the case for her laptop closed and answered, "My room. Mom was a little uncomfortable, but couldn't argue when I mentioned that she and Dad were living together at my age."

Jane said, "Michael, I bet you're happy about that."

Not hearing a response, Daria looked over her shoulder to a young man who was snoozing in the back seat. "Great."

Jane pulled into the driveway, looked back and laughed. She said, "Must be Trent's aura."

"Wake up," Daria said as she shook Michael's shoulder.

"Hunh?" he said, sleepily opening his eyes.

"End of the line."

He sat up and said, "Oh. Wow. That was fast."

Jane said, "Time sure flies when you're asleep."

"Don't know what came over me," Michael explained.

Jane said to Daria, "Yup. Trent's aura."

Daria looked back at Michael with a smirk. "Let's hope Michael's aura hasn't gotten to Trent. Lindy might freak out if he starts digging up the back yard."

Michael opened the door. "I was nine."

Jane opened her door, laughing. "Trent reverting to a nine-year old would freak Lindy out."

* * *

"Daria!" Quinn squealed and grabbed her sister. 

"Hi, Quinn," Daria replied in a normal tone of voice that still showed warmth.

Quinn worked her way around to the others, saying, "Jane, Michael," as she gave each a fast hug in turn.

"Hi, Daria," Sandi Griffin said as she came down the stairs.

Thrown off by the former brunette's bottle-blond curls and added pounds, Daria took a moment to recognize Quinn's friend. "Hi. How are you doing?"

Sandi shrugged. "Okay."

Time awkwardly crawled by as everyone wondered what to say next. Jane broke the silence by asking, "Quinn, do you know if my alleged brother and sisters have shown up?"

"Last time I talked to Lindy, Penny was there."

"Did she bring the parrot?"

"Lindy said it was going into a cage or into the garage."

Jane rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, this is going to be so much fun. It might even match your cousin Erin's wedding."

Daria said, "If it does, I think that will be conclusive proof that nobody should have me as a bridesmaid."

* * *

Jane rolled her car to a stop behind a red two-door car parked in the driveway of a modest, single story house. She opened the car door and took a deep breath. "Oh boy. I sure know when to pick a good time." Pushing herself, Jane marched to the house door and pressed the doorbell. 

A stocky man with short, gray hair answered the door. He had Mack's unmistakable jaw line and smile. "You must be Jane. I'm Colin."

Jane carefully said, "Glad to meet you."

Colin MacKenzie grabbed Jane's hand and hastily pulled her inside. "Where I grew up, you being here would've been a lynching offense."

Caught by surprise, Jane stumbled into the house.

Mack MacKenzie stood nearby and rubbed his forehead. "Dad."

Colin lost his serious expression and started laughing.

Jane went to Mack and they embraced. "You warned me he had an odd sense of humor."

"I'm not the only one," Colin said. "Did he ever use the 'my dad went to a Chicago Bulls game and changed my name' line on you?"

Jane glowered at Mack. "Not directly. But I heard it."

Mack was confused. "When did you hear it?"

"When Tommy Sherman…" A bright grin spread on Jane's face. "You mean you've successfully pulled one over on Daria for over four years?"

Mack's jaw dropped. "No. You mean she fell for it?"

Jane pushed him. "We both did, you oaf."

"Oops."

"Daria's gonna kick her self when she finds out. And then kick you."

"She still has those boots?"

"She got a new pair a couple months ago. She'd love to break them in on you."

"Maybe we better keep this secret a little while longer."

Jane nodded, but put her hands on her hips. "Okay, so how did you end up with a name like Michael Jordan MacKenzie?"

Colin answered, "He was named after his grandfathers."

"The rest is coincidence," Mack added.

Jane looked at both. "A coincidence you couldn't resist using."

Colin shrugged. "Why should we?"

Jane laughed with them. "Mack, I'm not worried about you meeting my family any more."

* * *

A loud squawk greeted Jane as she entered the Lane residence. In the corner to her right, a green parrot grumpily sat in a large cage. "Good, I won't have to check the chair backs for surprises." 

"You made it!" Lindy called and rushed down the stairs to greet Jane.

"Yeah. I kind of said I would." Jane looked at Penny's bird. "Thanks for getting that thing caged."

"I did not want to pick feathers and who knows what out of food at the dinner tonight or at the reception tomorrow."

Jane headed to the kitchen. "I'm almost afraid to ask what Mom and Dad are doing for the rehearsal dinner. Mom never was very big into the whole 'keeping food in the house' routine."

"She did require a little motivation."

"You hired a caterer and used Mom's name."

Lindy laughed and nodded. "You got me."

"Who'd you get?"

"Tokyo Toby's. Don't worry; I'm getting the Japanese steak and not the sushi."

"Hey, what are a few parasites among friends?"

Seated at the kitchen table Penny brushed her red hair aside and said, "Hi, Jane."

"How's the market south of the border these days?"

"I'm living in Puerto Rico, now."

"Decided on a little island life?"

"Working with rural farmers to make home crafts to sell to the American tourists to supplement their income."

"It's always something."

Lindy said, "I think it's cool that she's been working at things so long. Jane, you have to admire her dedication."

Jane thought for a moment. They had often joked about Penny's numerous plans, but Jane had to admit that all of them really were about helping others. "I guess you're right. It is neat."

Penny said, "Thanks."

Jane teased her sister by saying, "Not something you normally find in a Lane. With your red hair, I wonder even more where Mom and Dad found you."

Penny folded her arms. "You're what…just finished your sophomore year of college?" She grinned. "Sounds like dedication to me."

Lindy said, "She got ya."

* * *

Jane looked at the door leading to the garage and asked her oldest sister, "Summer, are you sure it's safe to put your kids in the garage? We don't know what may have evolved in there." 

Summer shrugged. "It's there or the basement. I don't want to think of how much havoc they could create with Mom's pottery, the band's instruments and Lindy's glass."

"I see. Look, just make sure they don't wander too deep inside."

"Jane!" Wind exclaimed and rushed into the room to hug his sister.

Caught by surprise, Jane was able to say, "Hi."

"Isn't it great for everyone to be home again?"

"I hope it goes better than last time."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Trent and I fled to my friend Daria's house. Might be a little awkward if that happened this weekend."

"So that's what happened to you two. I thought Trent was staying in a tent in the back yard."

"That was several years earlier."

"Oh, yeah."

"Is…um…uh…what's her name, here?"

"Tasha? No, she left me as soon as she got her green card." Wind suddenly started crying and ran off.

Summer noted, "Okay, I missed that one."

Jane said, "She was the Russian internet-order bride."

Summer nodded. "Oh. I think I remember hearing about her."

"He's going to make a scene tomorrow, isn't he?"

"You can bet on it."

"Who's running the pool?"

* * *

As the rehearsal dinner was winding down, Lindy leaned against Trent and let him put his arm around her. She watched her intoxicated mother and sighed. "At least Dad decided not to show up. I don't think I could deal with both of them ripped out of their minds." 

"Glad I didn't invite Uncle Max."

"She's going to be like that tomorrow."

"Bummer. Look, we'll just have to treat her like a loud drunk when the band's playing."

"Trent, you can't have a bouncer throw my mother out. No matter how much we might enjoy it."

"I meant play louder."

"I don't think Father Marvin can talk any louder than he does."

"Hmm."

Scooping food from a plate into his mouth, Jesse came over to Trent and Lindy. He set the empty plate down and said, "Come on, Trent. Time to party."

Max stood on a chair and yelled, "All right, you guys! We have to remind Trent of what he's walking away from!"

Lindy whispered to Trent, "Please make sure you keep a designated driver. Please."

Trent said back, "Don't worry. Janey and Daria's boyfriends are coming with. They're underage and can drive us home."

"Good."

Trent gave Lindy a kiss and said, "See you later. Don't let Quinn get you in too much trouble."

As soon as Trent was led off by Jesse, Quinn tugged on Lindy's sleeve. "Our turn. The boys are not going out to have a good time and leave us sitting around sewing. We're going out, too."

Pulled along by Quinn, Lindy asked, "What do you have planned?"

"Oh, you'll see." They stopped next to Daria and Jane. "Your attendance is required."

Daria asked, "Is this some kind of bachelorette party?"

"Duh. Earth to Daria. What else would it be?"

Jane grabbed Daria's arm. "I've actually given you a lot of slack on my promise to drag you to more parties. I'm dragging tonight."

Daria pulled her arm away. "Allow me a little dignity at least." Starting to follow the other women she added, "Just don't expect me to tip any of the male strippers."

* * *

"I told you. I'm not going to tip them," Daria said to Jane. "If they don't have the sense to put out a jar, that's their problem."  
"Daria, that's not the idea." 

Daria looked up at Penny, who was drunkenly dancing beside the stripper and taking several tries to place his tip. "Oh, I understand the idea. I'm trying to give them an alternative if they even want a chance of getting a tip out of me."

Jane smirked. "So, you'd give them a tip if it didn't have to be so…personal?"

"Like I'm going to admit anything."

Also sitting at the large table, Lindy asked Quinn, "How did you find out about this place?"

"When I was in high school," Quinn answered, "A card for this place fell out of my Mom's appointment book. It had 'Lawndale Businesswomen's Association meeting' written on the back of it."

Laughing, Lindy said, "I can just picture a bunch of women 'suits' figuring how to put this place on their expense accounts."

"Mom really turned red when I gave the card back to her. But, I did get her gold card for a weekend."

Penny fell, more than stepped, off of the stage. Apparently not noticing, she climbed back onto her chair and flagged down the server. "Another tequila!"

Shawna, one of Lindy and Quinn's friends from when they worked at Governor's Park, called to the server and pointed at a dancer, "I'd like one to go, please."

"I'll take one right here," Summer said over her drink.

"I get the idea that this is supposed to get us all excited and stuff," Daria observed. "And then they leave everyone frustrated. I'm trying to figure out what is supposed to be 'fun' about that."

"I'm sure Michael will have some fun when you get back and work out your frustration on him."

"Jane!" Daria said in surprise. "My sister's room is right across the hall and Sandi's is right next to mine. The padding's gone, remember?"

"Being in the same place with me or Karen hasn't stopped you," Jane said, gently pushing on Daria's shoulder.

"That's different."

"Oh, so we're a select audience?"

"You two already know enough secrets about me; so what's another? But giving any ammunition to Quinn…"

"True." Jane grinned. "I'm sure our two Michaels will be just as frustrated."

One of the dancers tossed his g-string to the table, causing Shawna and Penny to collide trying to grab it. Summer calmly picked up the garment and stood up, twirling it on her finger.

Daria's head sunk to the table. "I'm almost afraid to find out what the band's up to right now."

* * *

The pole dancer expertly placed one foot on Nick's butt and pushed him off of the stage while yelling, "Next time, I'm turning the bouncers loose on you!" 

Mack laughed and said to Michael, "Drunk watching. One of my favorite pastimes."

"From what I've seen of them," Michael replied, "The band doesn't need to be drunk."

Max slurred, "Waitress! Gimme 'nother."

Jesse stood and waved both arms. "Cool!"

Mack pounded hard on the table with his fist. "This sucks. Michael, do I have 'responsible sucker' written on my forehead or something?"

"What?"

"Dammit! This is just as bad as watching over the stupid assholes on my old high school football team. They get tanked and have fun, knowing that 'Mack will be responsible' and keep an eye on them. Screw it!"

He intercepted the waitress leaving Max. "A draft beer."

"Make that two," Michael added.

* * *

A battered, primer gray car pulled up to the Morgendorffer house and parked in the driveway. Inside, Trent's old friend Axl read the note and double checked the house address. "Okay, you belong here." 

"Are we there?" Michael slowly asked.

"Yeah, mate." Axl went around the car and helped Michael to stand up. "Can you make it from here?"

Michael took a couple seconds to focus on the front door. "That's it, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can make…it." Michael staggered successfully to the door, turning to see Axl driving away. "Um, thanks?"

Inside, Daria came over to the door when she heard it open. "Hi. How'd things go?"

"We had a great time!"

Shocked, Daria said, "Michael, you're drunk."

"Um. Uh, yeah. Mack and I decided we were tired of getting stuck with being resbonsip…responsible."

"How did you get home?"

"A bartender called some friend of Trent's. Tire? Wheel? Axl? Yeah. That's it. Axl."

"From the piercing parlor?"

Weaving in place, Michael dug a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. Reading he said, "Um. Axl's Piercing Parlor. Redeemedable for the two for one special. Not balid for any paired 'ody parts."

Daria took the paper from him and wadded it up. "What the hell's wrong with you? You two were just going to keep an eye on the band. You're underage anyway."

"We got borded. Drinking soda and watching…" He grinned at Daria. "You're a lot prettier than they are."

"I should hope I'm better looking to you than Mystic Spiral."

"No…the dances…dangers…dancers."

Daria started leading him up the stairs. "That just kept you off the sofa."

* * *

In the morning, Sandi looked at the bathroom door. "Uh…all my stuff's in there." 

Daria shook her head. "You don't want to go in there now. I really suggest using the downstairs bathroom for the time being and getting everything else done later."

"Is your boyfriend sick or something?"

"Yeah. Something."

A loud groan reverberated from the bathroom. Sandi's eyes opened wide and she said. "Why don't I use the downstairs bathroom?"

"Good idea."

Quinn stepped up next. "Is he going to be all right for the wedding?"

"He's going to feel like crap all day," Helen said as she came over and put an arm around Daria. "Nursing your boyfriend through a hangover. You're about to make another important step to womanhood."

"Why are all these 'important steps' so unpleasant?"

"So you're hardened enough to deal with your own kids."

"Mom…"

Michael slowly opened the door. He didn't have his glasses on and his normally bright green eyes were dull and unfocused. His hair was matted and his face was haggard. "Ugh."

Helen asked, "Do you remember how much you had to drink last night?"

He carefully counted on his fingers. "Uh…five beers?"

Quinn said, "Damn, Michael. You sure can't hold…um."

Helen looked at Quinn.

She replied, "Mo-om? I've been away to college for a year. I've seen people drink."

Michael winced and held his head. "Can you keep it down?"

Helen started escorting Quinn away. "Michael, take some aspirin, drink some water and take a shower."

"Will that make me feel better?"

"Enough to function. Daria, you might need to help him find everything."

"Yeah. I'll look for his common sense."

* * *

Penny's red, uncombed hair looked like a small fire on top of her head. She stood at the kitchen counter, adding various ingredients to a large glass filled with a thick, red liquid. 

Jane asked as she entered, "Bloody Mary?"

"Gory Mary." Penny tipped the glass and drained it in one go. Her body tensed and face contorted in apparent agony. She gasped, "Same thing, with a lot more attitude."

"You really tied one on last night. I'm surprised you're awake."

Penny coughed and explained, "It takes something like car radiator mezcal to put me out of commission."

"Sounds deadly."

"The worm tries to eat you."

Hearing the doorbell, Jane said, "I'll get it."

Penny nodded. "Good. Wouldn't want me to scare anyone away."

At the door, Quinn waited, holding a garment bag and a small suitcase. "Hi, Jane. How's everyone here?"

"Hey, come on in. Lindy's a bundle of nerves. Trent's still asleep. Penny's beating down her hangover with a vengeance. I'm assuming Summer's still out of it, and Mom's out communing with the gazebo."

Quinn stepped inside. "Speaking of hangovers, you should've seen Michael this morning."

"Michael? As in, Daria's boyfriend?"

"The one and only. Daria was not a happy camper."

"He was going to help Mack keep an eye on everyone. What happened?"

"From what I gather, they got tired of that and…you know."

Jane said, "I'm going to give Mack a call. Lindy's in her and Trent's room. Don't worry, Trent's still dressed from last night."

"Don't worry. We can work around him," Quinn said as she went up the stairs.

Jane went back into the kitchen, where Penny was looking out of the window. "What is Mom talking to in the cages?"

Jane walked over next to Penny. "I think those are the butterflies."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Lindy's idea. But you can guess that Mom latched onto it real quick."

Penny turned away. "Why am I surprised? Lindy's crazy enough to marry our brother. Why not have a bunch of butterflies?"

"You could look at it that way."

"And people wonder why I never got married. Could you imagine someone crazy enough to put up with me?"

"Um...I never really thought about it. Look, I came in here to give Mack a call."

"Have to admit, you know how to pick 'em. Have fun. I better go feed Chiquito before he gets all pissed off."

Left alone, Jane dialed Mack's number and waited.

Colin answered the phone. "Hello."

"Hi, Mr. MacKenzie. It's Jane. Can I talk to Mack?"

The older man looked at his son, sprawled on the couch with a pillow over his head. "You can try, but I'm not sure you'll get much out of him."

Wary, Jane asked, "Hangover?"

"He has all the symptoms. I'm going to let him wallow around in agony for a little while longer and then make him get dressed for your brother's wedding."

"Um...is he in trouble?"

"Mike was raised to live with the consequences of his actions, and he's feeling the consequences right now."

"Well, can I still speak to him?"

"Sure." Colin rather loudly said to his son, "It's Jane, she wants to talk to you."

Mack moaned and moved the pillow away. "Can you tell her I'm temporarily dead?"

"No dodging the bullet, son."

Mack muttered as he reached for the phone, "She's going to enjoy this way too much."

* * *

Annoyed, Lindy shook Trent. "Wake up!" 

"Huh?" Trent slowly said. "Oh, hey. Time to get dressed?"

"In a minute."

"Then I can grab a little more sleep."

"No."

"Oh. Um, what's up?"

"I found out that Michael and Mack got wasted last night. How'd that happen?"

Trent scratched his jaw. "Uh, yeah. I was kinda busy keeping Max and Nick outta trouble. I looked over, and they were already at it."

"And you let them keep going?"

"They weren't causing trouble. I had my hands full with the band."

"How'd they get home?"

"When the bouncers asked us to leave, I called Axl and asked him." Trent sat up in bed. "Sorry. Guess I should've stopped them."

Quinn asked, "Trent…why don't you have a hangover?"

He shrugged. "I gave the bartender a twenty to serve me NA beer all night."

Lindy sat down on the bed. "So long as everyone is safe. I have to admit that we had our hands full with Penny and Summer. I can see where you'd be busy with the band."

"Been a minute. Want me to get dressed?"

"I suppose you can."

Trent slowly pushed himself off the bed. "I'll be in Mom and Dad's room."

* * *

Sandi watched Daria, ready for the wedding, come down the stairs. The sleeveless, pale yellow bridesmaid dress fit cleanly. The lace neckline brought a touch of additional grace to the outfit. "You look nice in that," Sandi observed. 

Daria stopped at the base of the stairs. "Thanks, Sandi."

Sandi looked at the two-year old family portrait of the Morgendorffers, and back at Daria. "You know, if you and Quinn had teamed up, you could've taken over the old Fashion Club."

"Now that's a scary thought," Daria replied.

Sandi tapped both thighs. "And now, you can really show me up."

Daria sat down beside Sandi. After a moment to compose herself, she said, "I went through a weight and self-image crisis as a freshman. With the bulky clothes I wore in high school, you probably haven't noticed the weight I've put on since then."

Sandi quietly said, "Um…yes, I have. I didn't want to say anything."

"I can't fit into that right now," Daria said, indicating the formal gown in the portrait. "School, work, uneven eating. I know I should watch things better."

Sandi oddly laughed. "Who would've thought we had something in common?"

Daria joined the laugh. "Yeah, who?" She noticed a couple fine, black hairs on the dress. Picking them off, Daria said, "Bump, how do you get hair everywhere?"

"Bump?"

"My cat. Even after being sealed in the bag, I just pulled a couple of her hairs off."

"I miss Fluffy."

Daria faintly remembered a conversation from years before. "That's your cat? What happened?"

"I couldn't take her with to school. He's still at my folks' place."

"You can't get him back?"

"They won't talk to me."

"Do you know for certain that he's still there?"

"I've driven by my old house and seen him in the window."

"Hmm. Maybe you can go through your brothers."

"Why would they do that?"

"Did they like him?"

"No."

"I'm willing to bet they're the ones having to take care of Fluffy and wouldn't mind having that chore go away…"

* * *

_He does look good in a suit_, Daria thought as Michael got into her father's car. Noticing Michael was silent as he settled in, she asked, "Are you okay?" 

Michael said, "What I did last night was stupid and you were right to be upset, but there was nothing aimed at you."

"What?"

"You took it way too personal."

Beginning to be irritated, Daria asked, "What do you mean?"

"You acted like I was trying to hurt you."

"You said you weren't going to drink."

"After everyone made their plans assuming we'd babysit all the drunks. Nobody bothered to ask if we wanted that job, they just volunteered us."

"Well, that's what Jane and I did last night."

"But, you weren't alone. From what you've told me, Lindy doesn't drink at all and Quinn doesn't drink because of what it might do to her complexion. So there were four of you to keep an eye on what? Three?"

She nodded.

"Daria, there were two of us trying to watch four. I was stuck with things like that in high school and it sounds like Mack was, too. We were bored and frustrated and decided to rebel a little."

"You promised me!"

"No, I didn't. Everyone else decided and assigned us our job. We didn't agree to it."

"You could've been killed. It's a good thing Axl drove you home."

"That just saved us some money. I asked the doorman to call us a cab if we tried to leave drunk."

"Oh? So you've made contingency plans for those things?"

Michael angrily retorted, "Stop doing that, too!"

"What now?"

"Asking leading questions."

"Like what?"

"What you just asked. 'So you've made contingency plans for those things?' No, I hadn't, but you make it sound like I had, just because I tried to make sure I got back safely."

"Don't get mad at me because I want to know where I stand with you."

"Where do you stand? I love you! I wouldn't try anything that I'd think would hurt you. I know I've made mistakes that have, but nothing was ever meant to hurt you and I've always tried to make things up. Maybe I should ask you the same question…since you don't seem to trust me. Where do I stand?"

Daria angrily glared at Michael, but couldn't find the words to say.

He pointedly asked, "Well?"

She stayed silent and started the car, backing down the driveway. Just as quiet, Michael watched her as she drove down the street toward the Lane house.

Stopping at an intersection a couple blocks from their destination, Daria turned away from Michael and sunk down in the seat. Daria tightly held the bottom of the steering wheel and focused on the airbag. "Damn, I'm doing it again."

"Doing what?" Michael asked, calming down and concerned.

"Being clingy and jealous." With effort, she faced Michael. "I was taking it personally. You and Mack had a good time, didn't you?"

Michael shyly nodded. "After we quit playing caretaker, we laughed at the other drunks and snarked about the dancers. We were probably a source of amusement ourselves."

"I know it's childish, but something deep inside is afraid that if you have fun away from me…you won't come back."

"Daria…"

"I know it's wrong. It's caused problems for me before, boy can Jane tell you about that. And then I did try to provoke you." Daria's voice became a whisper, "It's easier to run away when I'm mad."

"Run away?"

"Even after our breakup, it didn't sink in. If things don't go the way I want them…"

"I get the picture."

"It's like part of me doesn't believe that someone else would want to be with me."

Michael scooted over in the seat and gently put his arms around Daria. "I want to. I sometimes pinch myself to see if I'm not dreaming that you'd be interested in me."

She leaned her head against him and closed her eyes. "Perhaps we're so screwed up that nobody else will want us and we're stuck with each other."

"Works for me."

* * *

Looking at Jane's matching gown, Daria said, "And the worst part is, there's going to be plenty of photographic evidence lying around after." 

Jane shrugged. "It's not like these are hideous or anything."

"You know how I get."

"Just remember that Michael's out there to appreciate how you look."

"I should be glad he wants to look at me."

"You still mad at him?"

Daria glanced at the floor. "No."

"Something's bothering you, Morgendorffer. Spill."

"I screwed up this morning. Michael explained that they were basically rebelling against getting stuck as babysitters."

"Mack said the same thing. I can see their point, even if their response was less than brilliant."

"But I acted…no, I took it, personal."

"You have a tendency to do that."

"Yeah, but this time, it came back to bite me."

"I never pictured you two getting into that kind of kink."

"Jane, you can just as easily be buried in that dress."

"Ariel's so cute," Jane said, diverting her friend's attention by pointing to a six-year old girl, also in a matching dress.

Squatting next to the girl was her father, Nick. "How're you doing, sweetheart?"

"I'm fine, Daddy," Ariel replied. "I get to go in front, right?"

"And I'll be right behind you with Daria."

Seeing Daria's slight frown, Jane looked up and said, "So a couple inches of height made a difference."

Faintly trembling and her hand tightly gripping Trent's, Lindy entered the room.

Quinn said, "Nobody looks better than a bride at her wedding."

Seeing her brother in a tuxedo, Jane said, "Even Trent cleans up pretty well."

Quinn lightly clapped her hands, taking control. "Okay everybody, places."

Ariel grinned, picked up a flower-adorned pillow holding the rings and stepped in front of the door leading to the back yard. "I'm ready."

Allowing Nick to take her arm, Daria stepped into line, with Jane and Max dropping in behind them.

Quinn placed Jesse in the line and double-checked Trent and Lindy. Taking her place next to Jesse, she said, "We're ready."

Ariel opened the door and stepped out.

* * *

Sandi stopped her car outside the video arcade. Looking carefully at the patrons, she entered and started searching for her younger brothers. She found Sam at a shooter game, blasting away at legions of undead aliens. 

"Hey, Sam," she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Whaddaya want?" he replied with a quick look over his shoulder before returning to the game. After a second, he stopped and turned again. "Sandi?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Crap, are you trying to get us in trouble?"

"Mom's not around, is she?"

"No…but you know she doesn't want you anywhere near us. Sandi, she's been psycho since…you know."

"No kidding. Look, I only want to get Fluffy back."

"I was hoping you wanted to blow up the house."

"Is Fluffy all right?"

"How did you ever stand that cat puking up hairballs all the time?"

"He has to be combed every day. Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he's fine." Sam looked around. His brother Chris was in the virtual reality game with a couple friends. "Mom only wants to keep him around to use against you when she sues Ms. Li and Mr. Lamm for getting her involved."

"Like they twisted her arm. She got them together."

"Mom's gonna lose it when she finds the cat is gone." An evil grin grew on Sam's lips. "She changed the locks; you'll need me to get you in."

"What about Chris?"

Sam pointed his thumb at the game. "He ain't coming out of there until they kick him out."

* * *

As soon as Trent and Lindy stepped out of the house and onto the paving stones, Wind started crying loudly. Penny checked her watch and clenched her fist, whispering, "Yes!" 

_We know who won the pool._ Assuming her place on the gazebo, Daria turned to look at the small gathering. Amanda had her peaceful smile. Vincent held his wife's hand and watched her. Wind continued crying into his hands while Penny looked to be about to strangle him. Summer switched her attention from the wedding to her children, all four squirming impatiently to be free of the ceremony. Sitting still and proper was an elderly couple that Jane had briefly introduced as her maternal grandparents, Pete and Renee.

Mrs. Weaver sat with a group of similarly aged women, all personal friends or coworkers. Shawna and several of Lindy's college friends giggled together. Near the back were Michael and Mack.

Jane stepped into place next to Daria and whispered, "Nothing like being on display, eh?"

Seeing Michael and Mack whispering, she said to Jane, "Leaving our boyfriends to plot together."

"Shh," Quinn whispered in admonition after standing next to Jane. "You two are worse than a couple kids."

Father Marvin had a fringe of silver-white hair around his head and a round belly that made most think of Friar Tuck. He watched the party with warm fondness. Now that everyone was ready, he softly cleared his throat before saying, "Welcome, everyone."

Except for the chirp of a cardinal in one of the trees, silence followed the priest's voice. Fr. Marvin looked at the couple and said, "I've known Lindy ever since I baptized her and it brings me great joy to join her and Trent in the Sacrament of Marriage."

* * *

"Give me a couple minutes," Sam said as he got out of Sandi's car. 

Constantly looking around and expecting her mother to appear at any moment, Sandi waited while Sam ran into her old home. From the outside, it looked unchanged from when she left it to go to college. On the way there, Sam had described the changes inside. All evidence of Sandi's existence had been thrown out. The contents of her old room had been placed on the sidewalk with a "free to a good home" sign. The room had been transformed into a home office, from which Linda Griffin had unsuccessfully tried to restart a career.

Sam reappeared, carrying Fluffy's carrier in both hands. The empty litter box balanced on top, along with a box of litter. Gripped in one hand was her food and water bowls stacked together, and from the other was a plastic bag containing food cans. He stopped at her car door and said, "Give me a dollar."

"What?"

"That way, I won't lie to Mom when I say I sold the cat back to you."

The white cat meowed a greeting from within the carrier.

"Oh, Fluffy!" Sandi fished a dollar bill from her pocket and gave it to her younger brother.

He placed his burden in the back seat and took the money. "The fireworks are gonna be great tonight."

Sandi ignored him and opened the crate, bringing the cat out and hugging it. "I missed you."

The cat relaxed and reveled in Sandi's attention. She asked, "Where's his brush?"

Sam shrugged. "Dunno. Guess we thought it was one of yours and it got tossed out."

Scratching the cat's nose, she told it, "I'll just have to get you a new one on the way home."

"Speaking of 'on the way.' I want to get back to the arcade."

"Oh, um, yeah. Right." Sandi gently put her cat back into the carrier and closed the door. Backing the car down the driveway, she said, "Thanks, Sam."

* * *

Fr. Marvin spoke the reading from long memory: 

_Love is always patient and kind; it is  
never jealous; love is never boastful or  
conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it  
does not take offense, and is not resentful. _

Love takes no pleasure in other people's  
sins but delights in the truth; it is always  
ready to excuse; to trust; to hope, and to  
endure whatever comes.

Love does not come to an end.

"This is the Word of the Lord," he said in completion. He addressed Trent and Lindy, "This passage says so much of what gives love and marriage their strength. Each statement, each clause, each part comes together in love to make strength greater than the whole. That strength will give you the means to overcome whatever difficulties may come before you as a couple."

…_it is always ready to excuse; to trust; to hope…_Resonated in Daria's mind as the reading made her think of earlier.

Michael shuffled his feet as the words sunk in, …_it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful._

* * *

Helen was in the living room, reading a magazine, when Sandi arrived. The young woman stopped at the door and said, "Um…Mrs. Morgendorffer?" 

Looking up, Helen said, "Yes, Sandi?"

"Uh…this is probably something I should've checked with you before, but, uh, well…"

"What is it, Sandi?"

She reached back and brought the carrier into view. "Uh…can Fluffy stay?"

"Can who stay?" Jake asked as he entered from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel.

Sandi held the carrier higher. "My cat, Fluffy."

"What a cute kitty," Jake said. "You know, my father wouldn't let me have a cat. That it wasn't…"

Talking fast, Helen quickly looked at Jake and said, "Yes, Sandi. It can stay. But remember, you're responsible for it."

"I understand. Thanks."

Seeing Jake's outburst cut short, Helen rested her head back against the sofa.

By then, Jake was at the door of the carrier and looking inside. "Hiya, Fluffy. I think you're gonna like your new home."

* * *

Daria blinked her eyes to recover from the flash. Beside her, Jane breathed out in relief. "Last one." 

"Thank goodness," Daria said. Stepping down from the gazebo and walking back to the house, she added, "You know, this is the first time I think I've seen your Dad actually use a camera."

"He was never big on taking pictures around the house with me and Trent. Guess between work and all the ones he took of Wind, Summer and Penny, he wasn't as motivated."

"One advantage of being fifth in line. My parents were camera happy and photographed almost everything about my early years."

"I kind of wish there were more for me. Grass is always greener, right?"

"Maybe because the fertilizer is always deeper across the fence."

"Or they have a bigger septic tank."

At the door, Daria said, "Jane, I want to go talk to Michael a bit. Catch up with you later."

"Yeah, I better go track down Mack."

Michael was already on his way over. By unspoken agreement, they stepped away from the others. At the same time, both said, "I need to say something…"

* * *

Inside an enclosed, air-conditioned pavilion in the side yard, the reception was underway. Daria partially leaned across the table and told Quinn, "Despite how badly they mangle French on their menu, this really is good." 

Quinn laughed and said, "Well, duh. Why do you think I kept getting guys to take me to Chez Pierre? After Dad's cooking and Mom's frozen lasagna, I really needed a break."

Mack looked around and whistled. "The caterers and the tent must've cost a bundle."

"Never underestimate how much a mother will spend on her daughter's wedding," Quinn explained. "If Mrs. Weaver had her way, there would've been a lot more people here."

Jane pointed and said, "It looks like it's her turn to tie one on."

"We were afraid of that," Quinn said. "She...has a drinking problem."

Jane said, "I get the idea that she wasn't entirely happy with the wedding plans."

"She had something a lot bigger in mind."

"Like something you'd plan?" Daria said with a gentle poke.

"Even I have my limits," Quinn shot back. "Though this does have me curious about what kind of wedding you might come up with."

Daria slowly took a drink from her glass and set it down. Conversationally, she said, "From what Michael described, an ancient Roman style wedding could be interesting."

Quinn giggled.

Daria gently shrugged. "But, getting everyone to participate in the orgy is going to be a problem."

Eyes huge, Quinn sat straight up as her jaw dropped.

Michael barely got his hand over his mouth to prevent spraying his drink across the table.

Jane chuckled and leaned against Mack, who gazed up at the ceiling.

"That..." Quinn angrily started a reply, but stopped and jointed the laughter. "Got me."

Lindy tapped on a water glass with a spoon. When everyone's attention was on her, she took Trent's hand and stood up. "Okay, here's the part I know a lot of you were waiting for. Trent's going to dance."

Trent shyly grinned in response to the scattered laughter and applause. "If this works, we might add it into Mystic Spiral's act."

"Over your dead body," Lindy told him.

Nick started some music and the couple started to dance. Despite Trent and Lindy's comments, their dance was graceful and close.

Jane gave out a low whistle and asked Quinn, "Okay, where'd she get the pod person? That is not my brother dancing."

"Beats me. Maybe Lindy's a good teacher."

Mack said, "Depending on what kind of rewards she uses…"

Jane playfully slapped his shoulder. "You already know how to dance."

He snapped his fingers. "Dammit."

* * *

Later, as Daria was herded together with the other single women, she said, "Moo." 

"Yeah," Jane agreed. "I feel like a cow on display at an auction."

"I hate this," Daria complained. "Lindy's going to throw the bouquet and several of the women will try to tear each other to pieces trying to get to it."

Quinn stopped next to Daria. "Yeah, the girls at Erin's wedding did get a little rough."

"At least we won't have Aunt Amy using us as human shields this time."

Quinn laughed and then took a half-step back, while holding back on a grin.

"Ready?" Lindy asked. Hearing several assents, she turned around and tossed the bouquet over her shoulder.

Quinn watched the flowers and moved her hand to the center of Daria's back, took a fast step behind her sister, and gave a quick push.

"Ah!" Daria's forward momentum knocked Shawna aside and Daria put her hands up to grab something hitting her face.

Daria spun around and pointed with the bouquet. "What was that for?"

Quinn was bent forward, resting her hands on her knees and laughing. "Tag, you're it."

Also laughing hard, Jane put her arm around Daria's shoulder. "Damn, wish I'd thought of doing that."

Daria looked over to Max, who was wearing the garter around his bald head. "I'm just glad the superstition doesn't have the people that catch the crap marrying each other."

* * *

George, Trent's black SUV, covered with numerous well wishes and suggestive comments written in soap, as well as tissue paper streamers from the door handles, was parked along the street. Daria walked carefully as she joined the line for the final activity of the reception. 

"I'm glad they're not in heels, but my feet are killing me," she quietly said to Michael.

"I could massage your feet when we get back," he suggested.

"Your risk, but I won't turn you down."

After saying a couple quiet words to each cage, Amanda opened them to allow the Monarch butterflies within to fly free. Many fluttered around the gathered people. Daria gently laughed at one that landed on Michael's head, and then he pointed to one resting on her shoulder.

Lindy and Trent came out of the door and started their exit walk to the SUV. Amid the dancing cloud of butterflies, the guests tossed rice over the couple.

"Argh!" Mrs. Weaver screamed and swatted at the butterflies around her, stumbling forward and bouncing off of Summer.

"Watch it," Summer said, pushing the other woman away.

Regaining some footing, Mrs. Weaver slurred, "Damn freaking bugs!"

Clearly not remembering anything else, she swatted and chased the butterflies. Fortunately for the insects, her alcohol-dulled coordination spared any from being hit.

"Mom!" Lindy screamed. "What's gotten into you?"

"I'm sorry, Lindy. All these bugs are ruining your wedding. I knew we shouldn't have used this wretched place." She slapped at another butterfly and careened past Daria. "I'll get rid of them."

"Mom! Stop!"

Amanda gazed in shock at her counterpart for several seconds. For the first time that day, her smile faded as she watched the continued attack. Spying the garden hose coiled nearby, she turned on the water and dragged it over.

"Elaine," Amanda said as she aimed the spray nozzle at Mrs. Weaver. "Step away from the butterflies."

* * *

Feet on Michael's lap being massaged and her head draped off the end of the armless sofa, Daria moaned with pleasure, saying, "If you're trying to seduce me, it's working." 

He moved one hand up her calf and started working on the tense muscles there. "That wasn't my intention, but…"

"…you won't object."

Closing her eyes, Daria let herself relax after the ups and downs of the day. Her reverie was interrupted by a small, furry nose tapping against hers. Daria opened her eyes to see a white cat sniffing around. "Hello."

"What was that?" Michael asked.

"Saying hello to the new resident."

Michael leaned over to see the feline. "I never pictured your mother getting a cat."

"This must be Sandi's cat, Fluffy."

"Hi, Fluffy. Yep, you're a cat. You can't stand to see anyone else getting attention."

Feeling his hands massaging the muscle just below her knee, Daria softly said, "Ohh. Don't stop."

Catching her sister's comment as she came in the front door, Quinn said, "Will you two get a room? Sheesh, I guess weddings do get couples in the mood for stuff."

* * *

Finally home after the long drive, Michael dropped his suitcase on the floor next to the sofa in his apartment. 

Standing up after searching for some leftovers in the refrigerator, his roommate Lewis said, "Well, did you catch the bouquet?"

"Funny. Actually, Daria did."

"You're in trouble now."

"Not yet. But, a little closer."

* * *

Hurrying to her room, Jane waved her sketchpad. "Thanks for driving. I can't wait to get started painting this." 

Daria took her time going to hers. "Your mom soaking Mrs. Weaver really got your imagination in gear."

"That is the first time I've ever seen Mom even approach aggressive. It was amazing."

"I have to admit it was a surprise ending."

Jane lifted a canvas and set it on her easel. "So…was this a big enough disaster to make you call off being a bridesmaid again?"

Daria placed her suitcase on the bed and opened it. "I've changed my mind. If my presence brings chaos to a wedding, who am I to deny others the chance to experience it?"

Starting to sketch the painting composition with a pencil, Jane said, "Makes me wonder what kind of chaos you would generate as a bride."

Daria gently lifted the silk-flower bouquet from her suitcase and set it on the shelf over her computer, next to a small blue vase holding a dozen miniature silk roses. She looked at the gift from Michael and said, "Somehow, I don't think I'll even notice."

* * *

Quote from the _Jerusalem Bible, New Testament,_ I Corinthians 13: 4-8. 

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

March 2005


	19. Family Collision

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the forty-sixth story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Family Collision**

Almost fearful, Lewis Berkheart looked around the counter and into the kitchen of his apartment. His roommate Michael Fulton was within, watching a frying pan on the stove and holding a spatula over it like a weapon. Scattered around the counter and stacked in the sink were various used bowls, containers and empty packages. Lewis asked, "How's it going?"

Michael replied, "Nothing's exploded, congealed into a substance harder than steel, or eaten through the cookware."

"So, you're improving."

"Dinner might be safe for my family to eat."

"Why is learning to cook so important? Lots of college students survive on ramen noodles and delivery pizza. Hell, I do it half the time." 

Michael stirred the contents of the pan. "I'm almost twenty and halfway through college; it dawned on me how dependent I still was. Staying at the dorm was almost like still living at home. Someone else cooked for me, took care of the utilities, cleaned the bathrooms..."

"Hey, at least you can do your own laundry."

"After turning all my underwear baby blue when I washed them with a pair of jeans at the beginning go my freshman year taught me a lesson."

"That means you learn from your mistakes. Besides, blue is better than pink." 

"There is that."

Both young men turned when the doorbell rang. Michael said, "Could you get that, please? It's probably Daria."

"Sure." Lewis crossed the modest living room and answered the door for a petite, auburn-haired woman. "Hi, come on in, your other half's in the kitchen."

"Hi, Lewis," Daria Morgendorffer said, accepting the invitation to enter. After closing the door, she raised one eyebrow. "Other half?"

"Sounds better than 'the old ball and chain'," Lewis said with a shrug. 

"He's anything but that," Daria replied.

Michael greeted her as she reached the kitchen with a gentle embrace. "Thanks for coming over early."

"I like your parents, remember?" Daria said before kissing him. "And I love you." 

"I love you," he quietly said afterward.

Daria asked, "Anything I can do?"

Voice showing his uncertainty, Michael said, "I think I have a handle on things." 

"Okay." Daria looked past him to the cluttered counter and sink. "Don't feel bad. Some of the messes I made cooking in my old dorm room were ugly; ask Karen."

* * *

After taking a deep breath, Michael opened the door. Waiting outside were his parents and younger sister.

Samantha pounced, giving Michael a big hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you, Mom." Looking over her shoulder, Michael added, "Hi Dad, Hi Gina."  
Ron waited for his wife to let Michael go to briefly hug his son. "Hi, Michael."

As soon as her father let go, Gina grabbed Michael, pinning his arms. "Gotcha, big brother."

"Looks like it," Michael answered. "You know, I sometimes worry about you and Natalie having unsupervised run of the house all summer."

Gina released her brother and punched his arm. "Get over it. We can take care of ourselves."

Samantha stepped past and warmly embraced Daria. "It's good to see you too, Daria. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Samantha," Daria said, returning the gesture to the larger woman. "And you?" 

Gina looked around the living room and said to her brother, "We should be worried about you out loose on the world, goofball."

Samantha patted her stomach. "I lost ten pounds." She then slapped her butt and added, "Now if I can lose another ten pounds here, I'll be a lot happier."

Ron lightly embraced Daria and asked, "Is Michael behaving himself?" 

"Mostly," she replied.

Gina followed her father in greeting Daria, saying, "You have my permission to kick his butt when he doesn't."

"I'll remember that," Daria answered.

Spying Lewis, Gina said, "Hey, is that your roommate? He's kind of cute, though a little too old for me."

Lewis gave her a quirky smile and said, "No offense, but I don't think I'm your type, either."

Michael took the chance to say, "Everyone, this is my roommate, Lewis. Lewis, this is my mom Samantha, my dad Ron, and my sister Gina." 

Lewis nodded. "Nice to meet everybody. Don't want to seem rude, but I have to get going to an Intro to Materials Science study session I have to ride herd over at seven."

After Lewis made a polite exit, Michael scratched his head and said to Gina, "Weren't you seeing Roger?"

Gina waved her hand. "Oh, we broke up a couple weeks ago. You were right, he was geekier than you."

"Wait…you just admitted I was right. Is there snow forecast for today?"

* * *

Just as Daria closed the dishwasher and stood up, Michael came up from behind. He said, "Thanks," and slipped his arms around her waist before kissing the side of Daria's neck.

Daria hummed with pleasure and leaned her head against him. "You're welcome, though putting dishes in a dishwasher is hardly a backbreaking task." 

He smiled and asked, "Do you want me to stop?" 

Pulling his arms tighter around her, Daria replied, "I didn't say that."

"Just making sure," he said and moved his kisses up her neck and along her cheek.

"Oh jeez, get a room," Lewis said from the other side of the counter.

Daria and Michael both jumped at his voice, with Michael saying, "We didn't hear you come in."

"Let me guess, you were a bit distracted."

Lewis chuckled at the blush on the couple's cheeks as they nodded in agreement. "Looks like your parents survived dinner; there are no signs of paramedics having gone through the living room."

"It was…chewier…than I intended, but everyone was polite enough not to say anything."

"Cool. Did they have any problems finding a hotel?"

"Dad booked one online a couple weeks ago."

"Okay, so what's the plan for the week?"

Michael explained, "After they go to church tomorrow, we'll go over to visit Daria's apartment and give them a chance to meet Jane. I'll play tour guide for them for the next couple of days. We'll watch the Fourth of July fireworks on Wednesday. By the way, the offer still stands to get you in along the bay where I work."

Lewis said, "Thanks. If my plans change, I'll take you up on it."

"After that, we drive down to Lawndale so my parents can meet Daria's."

Daria amended the statement with, "And for the scary part, his sister gets to meet mine."

Michael then said, "We'll spend Friday down there, and then everyone goes home on Saturday, spending Sunday recovering before going into work on Monday."

"And you really expect all this to work according to plan?"

Daria answered, "With my parents involved? Of course not."

* * *

"It sold? That's great news, Mother," Helen Morgendorffer said over the telephone. She paced around the kitchen, keeping an eye on her husband while he prepared lunch.

Jake used two spatulas to enthusiastically stir-fry the contents of a wok while odd bits and pieces escaped and fell onto the stovetop or floor.

At her home, Tess Barksdale said in return, "It's going to be strange to have someone other than family living in that old guest house, but they seem like a nice couple and their daughter is adorable." 

"That sounds delightful. When do they plan to move in?" 

"They're going to start over the holiday and work through the weekend."

"Sounds like we'll both have busy weekends," Helen said. "Michael's parents are on vacation. After they visit Boston, they're coming here to meet us." 

"Is that so? I'd dearly love to meet them."

"I don't know if we'll have time to drive to Virginia."

"Oh, don't be silly. I'll catch a train to Lawndale. What would be a good time for me to arrive?"

* * *

"Yes honey, I promise not to make a scene by declaring my undying love for you," Jane Lane said. The slender woman was pseudo-seductively stretched out on the sofa. "Our little secret is safe." 

Seated in a recently acquired chair to replace the long-overused camp chairs, Daria replied, "Jane, it's no secret that you're not in your right mind. Or left one, for that matter." 

"You seem awfully calm for having your future in-laws over."

Daria made a face at Jane. "They're nice people and our place is nothing to be ashamed of, except for maybe one of the residents."

"Don't say that about our landlady. You're not worried about putting on a 'good homemaker' image for them?"

"Maybe I'll show them how to brighten a garden while disposing of a body."

"And how to color-coordinate bridesmaid dresses with the soil," Jane snapped back. "Come on, where did you hide the real Daria?" 

The auburn-haired woman shrugged. "I feel comfortable around them. They welcomed me without preconditions. It didn't matter what I looked like or what my opinions were. The fact that Michael cared for me was all that they needed to know. Just like Trent and your mother; being your friend was enough."

"Except that the Fultons were awake and living on this planet," Jane said with a light laugh.

Gently smiling, Daria said, "Yeah."

* * *

Staring at one of Jane's paintings on the wall, Gina said, "This is so cool." 

"You like it?" Jane asked, and then added without waiting for a response, "Keep it."

"Really?" 

"You've got good taste, kid."

"Wow, thanks," Gina replied, taking the painting down.

"And when I'm famous, you can sell it online for an outrageous profit." 

Inside Daria's room, Samantha looked at a square of grey padding attached to a sheet of plywood hanging on the wall next to the computer desk. "Is that one of Jane's?"

"No," Daria explained. "That's a piece of what used to be on my bedroom wall in Lawndale."

Samantha gave her a very strange look. "Your parents kept you in a padded room?" 

"It was there when we moved in. I liked the padding and didn't do anything with it. I saved that piece when I came to Raft and Mom remodeled the room. It's…comforting."

"I'm sure these tell a story," Samantha said, touching one of a dozen tiny, silk flowers in a vase over Daria's computer.

"Michael gave me that the first Valentine's Day we were together." 

Samantha paused in remembrance, thinking of when she'd dated Ron. Next, she eyed a poster of a half-buried skeleton on the wall near the closet. "Is that also a gift from Michael? It seems like something the archeologist in him would like."

"I picked that up when I was a high school freshman in Texas. Kind of a statement of my opinion of the town we lived in." Daria let slip a far-away smile and unconsciously added, "Though we do have a couple private jokes about it."

Samantha turned away and politely pretended not to hear the last comment.

Gina's voice drifted into the room. "Daria caught the bouquet! Come on, big brother. That's a hint."

"It sounds like my daughter's getting a little overly excited again."

"I'm starting to wonder about what Gina's going to be like when she meets my little sister."

"Don't worry. I have a few stories I can pass on for your defense," Samantha whispered. 

Daria and Samantha stepped out of the hallway at the same time Gina smirked and pointed to Michael. "Isn't he cute when he blushes like that?"

Face almost matching his hair in color, Michael replied, "Easter of 96."

Gina's face went flat and she said, "You wouldn't…you would."

Jane moved her gaze from one sibling to the other. "Well, are you going to leave us hanging like that?"

Gina exclaimed, "Whose side are you on?"

It was Jane's turn to smirk. "Mine."

Daria said, "And don't ever forget it."

Jane turned around. "Hey, we were just talking about you."

"I noticed. Have you talked about Mack much yet?"

Michael joined in. "Yeah. When are you seeing him next?"

Jane rolled her eyes and admitted, "He's coming here to visit while all of you are in Lawndale."

Gina pounced, asking, "So…what kind of long-range plans do you two have?"

To Michael, Jane said, "Has she always been like this?"

"Pretty much."

"I'm surprised she's still alive." 

"Mom made it clear that after twenty hours of labor, if anyone got to kill Gina, it was her."

Daria said, "That maternal instinct at work."

Samantha crossed her arms and, with her head slightly cocked and a knowing smile, looked at Daria.

Jane dove and rolled out of the way. "Damn! I've never seen a nuke version of 'wait until you have kids of your own' before."

Hearing the telephone ring, Daria stepped aside to answer it, at the same time feeling an odd, new connection to Samantha. "Hello?"

Helen said, "Hi, Daria." 

"Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"Just calling to see if the Fultons were safely in town and if things are going as planned."

"They made it without problems and we're about to head out for lunch." Daria tapped her fingers against her thigh and asked, "Since you asked, what unexpected change of plans has occurred at your end?"

"Well, I was on the phone with Mother…"

* * *

At the conclusion of two days of sightseeing around Boston, Daria and Michael led the Fultons to Raft University's Lavell Hall Gallery. Looking over the student artworks on display, Ron said, "Not exactly to my taste, but they are different."

Holding Michael's hand, Daria said, "What's on display at any time is hit or miss. I can't say that everything I've seen here has been to my taste, either."

Gina asked, "Sounds like you two come here a lot."

Michael nodded. "It's one of our favorites. There are some good memories here."

Daria softly rubbed her thumb over the back of Michael's hand. "Very good memories."

"I'm glad we have a couple locals to show us these romantic, out of the way places," Samantha said with a hint of teasing as she grasped Ron's hand.

Gina released a sigh of frustration at the two couples. "When I finally find somebody, I'm going to get even for all this." 

Daria answered, "We expect nothing less."

* * *

Carrying a pair of blankets and a small cooler, Ron asked, "Are you sure it wouldn't be easier to drive?"

Stuffing water bottles into cargo pockets on his pants, Michael answered, "Positive. Traffic is going to be a nightmare and public transport is the best way to get to the Esplanade."

"And what are we going to do all day?" Gina asked. "Isn't this a little early?"

Jane said, "My boss invited me along last year. Trust me; if you want a spot in front of the Hatch Shell, you have to get there in the morning. If you want to skip seeing the orchestra, you can find a spot along the river later."

"This is probably going to be my only chance to hear the Boston Pops live. We'll just have to keep ourselves entertained," Samantha said. 

"Jane's usually pretty entertaining," Daria added with a small smile.

Taking a bow, Jane suggested, "I can serenade everyone."

"On second thought," Michael quickly stated. "We could find something else." 

"It's been a while since you were in the choir, but you and Gina could sing a little," Samantha said.

"Oh?" Interest piqued, Jane inquired, "Has Michael graced you with his voice, Daria?"

Cheeks turning pink, Daria admitted, "Once."

Closing the pockets and grabbing two folding chairs, Michael said, "We better get going. The crowd's only going to get worse the longer we wait."

Picking up a backpack full of supplies, Daria said, "Good idea." 

Grabbing a portable radio, Jane returned, "You're not getting away that easily. Later."

Following the others, Ron wondered, "Do you think we could rent a boat and watch from the river?"

"This late, forget it," Michael called back.

"Should've brought mine," Ron said wistfully.

* * *

There was already a huge crowd gathered on the oval lawn in front of a massive band shell when they arrived. A band of mature deciduous trees surrounded the lawn and blocked a direct view of the Charles River. Jane led them to a spot about halfway to the stage along the south side of the oval, where they would have a clear view of the concert and capture a little shade from the trees. Soon after, the blankets, chairs, coolers and other supplies were in place and everyone was seated.

Sitting cross-legged on a blanket, Jane said, "You know, some water guns, party string and play slime would just complete the day."

Letting out a single laugh, Daria said, "I haven't thought about that in ages."

Michael asked, "What?"

"During the first summer I was in Lawndale, Jane and I went to a party Jodie had at the park where the city celebration was going on. Somebody started a water-gun fight with extra-messy weapons. We spent a good part of the evening cowering behind a table until the police arrived."

"When we made a quiet exit." Jane laughed a moment and added, "Daria found a pack of the slime and tossed it over a hedge. I sometimes wonder who she hit with it."

"That will have to be one of life's little mysteries," Daria replied.

Gina said, "We used to have water-gun fights when we were younger. I miss that."

"That's because you have supernatural aim," Michael said. "Nobody should be able to hit a moving target at that range."

"You're just slow." 

"No, you're just a freak of nature."

"Whatever." Gina shifted her focus, saying, "Hey Daria, what kind of stuff did you and your sister get into?"

She picked at the blanket. "Not that much. For a long time, we didn't get along that well."

"You're kidding."

"Sorry. Up until the end of summer before my last year of high school, we were more like antagonists. But, we've gotten close since then." 

"You must've done something together."

Daria sat back and thought back for several seconds. "When I first learned, I'd read to Quinn a lot. Mostly simple beginner's books. I think we both enjoyed it. But, when Mom started working and we started spending time at a daycare center, she drifted away with her new friends and I stayed mostly with my books. Start of a long-term trend; she was popular and I was bookish."

"I bet she'd like to hear you read one of your stories."

"Only one person ever really liked hearing me read," Daria said, the faint sadness clear in her voice.

"Ahem."

Daria quickly turned to see her boyfriend's slight frown. "Except Michael, and you can't consider him unbiased."

Jane said, "He'd listen to Daria reading the ingredients on a can of soup."

"Guilty," Michael stated.

"So, who is it?" Gina asked.

"Theresa Blaine. I met her while doing some volunteer work at her nursing home, and I'd stop in once or twice a month to read whatever I was writing. She was a retired teacher and gave me some good advice."

"Do you get to see her when you go back to Lawndale?"

"She died just before I left for Raft. I still miss her."

"Oh." Gina quietly absorbed the information before saying, "I still think your sister would like to hear you read."

* * *

Cannon reports rolled across the oval lawn in response to the orchestra's rendition of Tchaikovsky's _1812 Overture._ To the north, multicolored lights flashed against thin clouds of smoke and through the trees as the fireworks detonated over the Charles River. Each blast of the battery caused the crowd to jump in response.

Samantha sat on a folding chair next to Ron, one hand held in his and her eyes closed. A deeply pleased smile graced her face as she let the music embrace her. Ron leaned against the arm of his chair and watched the wonder of his wife's face.

Jane sat facing the stage and waving her hands around as if conducting, though a little out of synch with the music. Gina sat nearby, people watching as she leaning back against her arms. During the thunderous finale, she nudged Jane and pointed to Daria and Michael.

Daria sat in front of Michael with his arms pulled around her waist. Her head was leaned back over his shoulder, resting against his as they stared toward the firework flashes. Neither reacted to the music, sitting still as if surrounded by silence.

* * *

"Come in, Mack," Daria told the handsome man at the door.

Michael MacKenzie entered and gave Daria a brief hug. "Hi. How are you and Michael?"

"We're good. You must've gotten up at some obscene hour of the morning to arrive this early."

He looked past Daria at Jane approaching. "A small price to pay." 

Jane jumped and hugged Mack, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. "You're early. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"I'm going to take that as my cue to leave," Daria said to the pair locked in a kiss. "Have fun."

"We will," Jane said.

Mack added, "Have a safe trip."

Daria picked up a small suitcase and said, "I'm not as worried about the drive as much as I am about the potential culture clash."

A soft meow directed Daria's attention downward, where her cat was rubbing against Mack's ankle. "Be nice to him, Jane and Mack are going to be the ones feeding you for a couple days."

* * *

Jodie Landon stacked papers on her desk and said, "Mr. Morgendorffer, I'll handle everything. Go have fun."

Jake let some of his tension slide away after hearing the reassurances of his intern. "Will do. I'll make sure Daria gets a chance to stop by to see you."

"I appreciate it. We haven't seen each other since Christmas break. I wish I'd been in town when Daria and Jane came down for that wedding."

Jake shut down his computer and closed his briefcase. "I'm sure you knocked the socks off those snobs at Crestmore Business School."

"I think I made a good impression."

"Don't let the place fall apart while I'm gone," Jake jokingly said while opening the office door.

"I'll try not to let that happen. B-school students would kill for internships this close to what they want to do."

"Hey, glad to help. See you on Monday!" Jake jogged out of the office, grinning and excited.

Jodie smiled and walked behind Jake's desk and looked at the three picture frames, one each dedicated to his wife and daughters and containing several photos spread over many years. Tucked into a corner of Daria's frame was a small photo of Michael. Jodie sat down and stared at them while thinking of the coldly formal family photos on her father's desk. "Jake, you may not remember what month it is, but you never forget how much you love your family."

* * *

"Sibling bonding," Michael explained as he pulled his car out onto the street. Daria was seated to his right and Gina was in the back seat. Ron and Samantha followed in their car.

Daria looked over her shoulder at the younger sibling. "Or your parents wanted some time alone."

"Either way, you're stuck with me," Gina said, arms folded.

"In that case," Daria said, turning and resting her arm on the seat back. "I guess I can start learning a little more about you. You were almost inseparable from your friend Natalie when I visited last year."

"Um…" 

"I know it's a little early, but do you have any plans yet for college?"

"I'm almost clueless." 

"That's a step up from completely clueless."

"I like music and I like to sing, but I don't want to be in a rock band or a big performer or anything like that. Some of those places beginning bands play at are so gross."

Daria smiled, thinking about the Zon. "No argument."

Gina then said, "Don't even mention teaching. I don't have the patience." 

"I can vouch for that," Michael said.

Gina bounced a wad of paper off her brother's head. "I heard you." 

He ducked and replied, "But, you do have Mom's knack for getting people to listen."

"I wouldn't mind being in charge of a small, local choir or something like that," Gina speculated.

"I can just see you as a crazy church choir lady," Michael joked.

"Doing music for a church wouldn't be bad, either."

"I can just see you singing at weddings…" Michael chuckled and finished the sentence, "...and having to stomach other people's bad taste in songs."

"Like yours?"

"I can't complain about his taste in songs," Daria said.

"Oooh, that sounds interesting."

Suspicious, Daria asked, "Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah."

"He sang _Everlong_ as we stood on the landing of my apartment after one very romantic date."

Gina said to Michael, "That was sweet, even for you, Goofball."

"I expect fifty percent" Daria said, matter-of-factly.

"What?" 

"Fifty percent of what Jane was paying you to get the information."

Gina pouted and said, "Damn, you're good."

"One of the things I love about her," Michael said.

Daria leaned over and kissed his shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll get your cut."

* * *

Driving along the interstate behind Michael's car, Samantha said to Ron, "It doesn't look like there's any bloodshed up there."

Resting with the seat tilted back and his eyes closed, Ron said, "It must mean that our children are growing up."

Samantha reached over to hold Ron's hand. "How long has it been since we've had a long drive together like this?"

"About twenty years? I remember you were incredibly pregnant at the time." 

"And stopping every half hour for me to use a rest room. I was wondering if Michael was going to grow up to be a soccer player, with how much he was kicking."

"It doesn't feel like that long ago."

"I'll have to admit to being a little nervous about meeting Daria's parents. What about you?"

"Not really. Can't be any worse than when our parents met."

"That's why I'm worried. Your mother dumped a drink over my father's head. Not that he didn't deserve it…" 

"And they've gotten along fine for years. The way I figure, someone is going to say or do something stupid, someone else will get mad, and then we'll all get over it. You and Helen seem to get along fine over the phone. Jake and I will go burn hamburgers on the grill."

"Still..."

"Look at how level-headed Daria is. She had to get it from somewhere. I wouldn't worry."

* * *

Formally embracing Tess, Helen said, "Mother, it's so good to see you." 

"It's good to see you, Helen. It doesn't look like the Fultons have arrived. When are they expected?"

"Michael had a flat tire. It took them a little while to get it replaced, but they should be here within half an hour or so."

"I see. Hello, Jake," she said as he walked over from the living room.

"How was your trip?" Jake asked. 

"Pleasantly uneventful. Can you carry my bags?" 

"Sure." Jake picked up the single suitcase and started follow his mother-in-law.

Sitting at the sofas were Quinn and her friend, Sandi Griffin. Sandi quietly observed, "Her hair is almost the same tone as your mother's. I wonder what coloring she uses on it."

"Only the best. Trust me," Quinn replied. "I bet she's left instructions on how to dye her hair when she's buried."

"Hello, Quinn," Tess said, her voice slightly raised.

"Hi, Grandma. This is Sandi."

"Good afternoon, young lady."

"Um, hi Mrs. Barksdale," Sandi said.

"Helen tells me that you're staying here."

"Until I can save enough for my own apartment. I'm staying in their guest room."

"That reminds me," Tess said. "Helen, where will I be staying?" 

"In Daria's old room. She'll stay at the hotel with the Fultons."

Nodding, Tess said,"I'm sure Michael's parents will be good chaperones. She is enamored with that young man."

"They make a nice couple."

"And, I'm pleased that she isn't living with him, yet."

Chafing at the old irritation, Helen warned, "Mother…"

"Helen, I'm saying that I approve of your daughter's behavior."

Quinn whispered to Sandi, "I'm sorry. I was hoping that they wouldn't start this early."

"And you're also saying…" Helen stopped with her fists clenched.

"Helen, I didn't approve of your college living arrangement back then, and I still don't."

Sandi whispered back to Quinn, "Don't worry. You should see my mom and grandmother go at it."

* * *

Driving along Glen Oaks Lane, Gina said, "Admit it. Having a flat on the interstate freaked you out."

"Mom asked us to let you drive some for practice," Michael said from the back seat. 

"Sure."

"If I was freaked out, I certainly wouldn't expect your driving to calm me down." 

"Hey!"

"Considering you just ignored a stop sign, I think he has a point," Daria said.

Whipping her head back to look, Gina exclaimed, "Damn!"

Gripping the arm rest, Daria asked, "Gina, could you please watch the road in front of us?"

"Oh!" Gina looked back and corrected the car's path to avoid hitting a dog.

Daria looked back at the familiar bulldog and said, "That mutt has a charmed life."

Pounding on the steering wheel, Gina said, "Damn, damn, damn. I'm going to hear it from Mom." 

They passed by six or eight blocks before Daria pointed and said, "That's it, the brick house ahead on the left with the red and the yellow cars in the driveway."

"Got it." Gina pulled in behind Sandi's yellow convertible. She sat still in the car, both hands on the steering wheel.

Samantha drove up and parked behind Quinn's red Vexxer. She stepped out of the passenger door and crooked a finger at Gina. The teen frowned, nodded, and got up to follow.

Michael leaned forward and said, "Having a safety manager as a mother makes learning to drive a little stressful."

Daria replied, "Considering the way you drive at times…I don't think all of it stuck." 

Using a voice that was even, insistent and commanding, Samantha scolded, "You didn't see that stop sign at all, did you?"

"No, Mom. I was talking and got distracted," Gina answered.

"What have I told you about that?" 

"Don't let conversations take your mind off driving." 

"Good, you remember. Do you also remember that everyone's safety inside that car is your responsibility?" 

"Yes. Mom, I'm sorry."

"Too many young people get hurt and killed that way."

Michael said to Daria, "I suppose. But, your road paranoia gets almost as bad." 

"It's not paranoia if all the other drivers are out to get you."

Inside the house, Helen rushed over from the large front corner window. "They're here." She adjusted her casual, but nice, blouse and asked, "Quinn, does this look okay?"

"It's fine, Mom."

Tess said, "Yes, Helen. You're starting to sound like Rita." 

"Mother!"

Jake hurried to the door. "I'll go help them get the luggage."

Ron was almost to the front door when Jake opened it. "Hey! You must be Ron, I'm Jake. Glad to meet you."

Ron accepted the handshake and said, "Hello, Jake."

Jake moved close and said privately to Ron, "You might want to tread a little lightly. Helen and her mother are not having a good day."

Samantha was now talking to Michael. "And you shouldn't have been distracting an inexperienced driver like your sister."

Sensing the mood in both families, Ron asked, "Jake…can you make a couple martinis?"

* * *

"Mothers can be such…mothers," Gina grumbled as she flopped back on Quinn's bed.

"I hear you," Quinn agreed.

"They can make you swear off having kids." Seated on the floor next to the bed, Sandi idly petted a white cat purring on her lap. "If there's any chance I'd end up like mine…I couldn't do that to a kid."

Gina abruptly sat up. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sandi. I wasn't trying…"

"I know. Just let it go." 

Still uneasy, Gina said, "Um…sure."

"Why don't we change the subject?" Quinn suggested.

"My goofball brother and Daria interrogated me the whole time we were in the car." Gina grinned. "Got any fun dirt I can use on her later?"

"I know this is going to come back to haunt me, but I can't resist. Excuse me." Quinn walked out of the room for a minute and returned holding three thick photo albums. "I'm sure we can find something."

* * *

Sitting at the dinner table between Helen and Tess, Samantha said, "Raising two children was plenty of work. Raising three daughters must have been a real challenge."

"All three of them could be challenging at times," Tess said, shooting Helen a quick glance. "But in my day, I was home all day to raise them."

"Not everyone had a choice back then," Samantha replied. "I remember my mother needing to work while I was growing up, just to make ends meet."

"Oh?"

Helen said, "Mother, not everyone was as fortunate as we were."

* * *

Squeezing a can of lighter fluid and directing the liquid at the pile of charcoal, Jake said, "Gas grills are for amateurs."

Ron finished off his glass and said, "Exactly. There's an art to building a proper fire and cooking on it. With a gas grill, you might as well stay in the kitchen."

"And the meat never tastes right from a gas grill. It's missing something." Jake pointed a long-tipped grill lighter at the pile and pulled the trigger. After several tries, a flame popped out from the lighter and touched the soaked charcoal.

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed, watching the fireball rise and spread out in a small mushroom cloud. "That was some good lighter fluid."

Jake reached over to the small table near the grill and picked up his martini glass. "You should've seen the stuff I used to get in Texas. That could light anything."

* * *

"Okay, then. I'm glad you don't drive like my father," Daria said to Michael.

He pulled the car into a parking space in front of Morgendorffer Consulting. "And I'm glad you don't backseat drive like my mother."

Daria released her seat belt and opened the car door. "We're making compromises. Does this mean we're turning into an 'old' couple?"

Michael stepped out and closed his door. "Maybe. But, it beats the alternative." 

"Since the alternative was me beating you senseless, I can see that."

They met at the front of the car and Michael put one arm around her waist. "Hmm. If you have to administer a beating to get me senseless…does that mean I have some sense now?"

"A little, but don't let it go to your head," Daria said with a faint smile.

Opening the door to the office, they heard Jodie say, "May I help…oh, hi Daria. Hi, Michael."

Jodie came around her desk and greeted them at the door, hugging both at the same time. "Thanks for stopping by to see me. How are your folks getting along with each other?"

Daria said, "So far, so good, between families; but within family tensions…could be better."

* * *

"She is sooo cute!" Gina said, looking at a photo of eight year-old Daria. She was wearing a white and lavender Easter dress and asleep against a tree with a small wicker basket of eggs beside her.

Quinn said, looking over Gina's shoulder, "She wandered off and my folks were freaking out trying to find her. For a week after, she tried to convince me that the real Easter Bunny left the eggs." 

"Wow, Quinn. Your sister really was cute," Sandi added while looking over Gina's other shoulder.

"We are sisters, you know."

* * *

"That sounds like a lot of responsibility," Tess said to Samantha. "Please go on, I'm sure things don't always go the way that they should.

Samantha said, "No kidding. In those situations, I get to do the prep work when some idiot hurts himself through his own stupidity and hires a bottom-feeder lawyer to sue the company anyway."

Eyebrows arched sharply, Helen said, "Bottom-feeder?"

* * *

Holding a bottle of hot pepper sauce over the hamburgers cooking on the grill, Jake shook a single drop onto one. "Think this is enough?" 

Ron stroked his chin and closely examined the meat patty. "Uhhh. Nah, go for broke."

"Good thinking, man." Jake proceeded to liberally apply the sauce to every burger.

* * *

"Oh, my God! Mack got drunk? And you were there?" Jodie incredulously asked.

"Just as drunk, and boy did I pay for it the next day." Michael said. "Hangovers suck."

Daria had walked around the side of Jodie's desk and tilted a picture frame to look at a photo of a young man. "It looks like your life hasn't been uneventful, either."

"His name is Levon. I met him when I went up to Crestmore to visit the Business School. Seems like I keep getting into long-distance relationships, but at least we'll be in the same school this fall."

Daria reached over to Michael's hand. "Being close has its advantages."

"I can see that."

Daria asked, "How are things coming along with you working for Dad?" 

"Great. A lot of my classmates have laughed at me for working in a small company while they go off to big corporations, but I'm getting real consulting experience while they're basically gofers."

"I'm a little jealous," Michael said. "You two are getting direct experience and I'm still a groundskeeper. But, at least it pays the bills."

Daria looked sidelong at him. "How many colonial-era historians and restorationists have you met?"

"Um…several. I suppose that is a good start, if I shift my area of study to that from ancient history."

* * *

Quinn put a bookmark in place and closed a photo album. "My friend Lindy has a fancy scanner and all kinds of cool stuff like that. She can even put them on a CD for you."

Gina grinned. "Thanks, Quinn."

"My pleasure."

* * *

Hands on hips, Tess said to Helen, who was still at the dining table. "That was a good start at getting along with your potential in-laws." 

Helen gulped down her drink and said, "Just about as well as you get along with Ruth. I guess we share something in common after all."

* * *

Thin trails of smoke drifted away from the hamburgers as Jake moved them from grill to platter. "I think they might be a little on the well-done side."

Ron said, "Don't worry. You can get _Salmonella_ from undercooked ground beef. It's better that way."

"Yeah!"

* * *

"We better go home," Daria said. "I'm not certain how long our families can be together unsupervised."

"It's been good seeing both of you," Jodie said. "Have a safe trip home tomorrow."

"We'll be careful," Michael said. "Bye, Jodie."

"Good bye."

Daria hugged Jodie. "Good luck at Crestmore. Good bye."

Jodie waved as they left and then went back to her desk to sit down. She started reviewing the contract wording she'd been working on before Daria and Michael's arrival, but couldn't concentrate. She looked at the door and said, "Mack never cut loose like that around me."

* * *

"I don't like the look of that smoke coming up behind the house," Daria said as they neared home.

Michael said, "Don't you think it's odd that the smoke is coming up in puffs and not continuously?" 

"You're right, that is very odd."

Michael parked the car and said, "I've got a feeling we better check this out."

They walked around the right side of the house and looked into the back yard. Jake held the lid over the grill for several seconds before quickly raising it. A plume of smoke billowed up, only to be cut off when Jake dropped the lid back in place.

Standing on the other side of the grill, Ron chewed on a burnt hot dog and said, "Jake, I don't think they're listening to us."

Jake asked, "You got any other ideas to get them to let us in?"

"Uh…no."

Michael shook his head, "Our mothers have locked our dads out of the house."

"This is starting to turn into a real Morgendorffer moment," Daria said. After walking over to their fathers with Michael, she eyed the empty drink pitcher, confirming that both were drunk. "Dad, what did you do?"

"Oh, hi Kiddo! We, uh, kind of overcooked dinner."

Ron said, "And, I think we may have gone a little overboard on the pepper sauce."

"Oh yeah. That's why your wife was drinking out of the milk carton."

Michael picked up the hot sauce bottle and read the label. "Colonel Cutter's Conflagration Concoction?" He put a drop on a fingertip and tasted it. "Ow." 

"Careful son," Ron advised. "That stuff's pretty potent."

"I noticed."

Daria said, "We're going to head inside and see if we can spring you." 

"Good luck," Jake said. "You'll need it." 

Ron added, "Samantha and Helen are madder at each other than at us."

Daria and Michael looked at each other and sighed.

Daria used her key to unlock the sliding glass door and Michael followed her inside. Helen was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking on the telephone and clearly not in a good mood. "That's right. Three large pizzas. One pepperoni, one garden delight, and one cheeseless."

Looking in the other direction, they saw Samantha sitting in the living room, intently staring at the television.

Daria said, "Hello? We're back."

Helen waved and said to the phone, "Forty minutes. I'll be expecting it."

Samantha turned and said, "How was your friend?"

Daria said, "She's doing well and excited about going to Crestmore next year." 

"Crestmore. That's impressive."

Michael asked, "Mom, how long are you going to leave Dad out there?" 

"Until he and that other imbecile sober up." 

Daria said to Helen, "Mom?"

"Until your father is no longer a threat to anybody else."

"He's making smoke signals from the grill. He's a threat to himself." 

"I'm not worried about him."

Daria shuffled and said, "Um…what about you and Mrs. Fulton? You seem a little…tense."

"We're not talking to each other." 

"Mind explaining why?"

"I won't put up with those kinds of comments about my work in my own house." 

"I don't want to talk about."

Michael said, "Mom?"

"Don't ask."

Helen and Samantha each purposefully turned away, leaving Michael and Daria alone. Daria said, "Want to go upstairs and see how bad things are going among everyone else?"

"We might as well get the complete experience."

Upstairs, they neared Quinn's room and heard Tess saying, "The style was about a more subtle femininity. The padded shoulders and wide skirt made the waist look slimmer and the tailored fit accented the bust and hips." 

"Now that you mention it," Gina said. "I can see that."

Quinn said, "There is a classic feel about the style. I wouldn't wear clothes like that on a date, but they would make good business attire."

Daria stopped and grabbed Michael's hand. "My grandmother is bonding with your sister."

"I'm more worried that our sisters are bonding."

Sandi said, "I agree. That style has a lot more elegance than current business attire."

"And Sandi." Daria advanced to Quinn's room and looked in. Quinn, Gina, Sandi and Tess were seated on the bed, watching a 1940's era movie on television. Daria said, "Hi, we're back. Did they chase everyone up here?"

Quinn said, "Hi, Daria. Yeah, Mom and Mrs. Fulton got really scary. They even ran Grandma off." 

Tess said, "It was clear that they were not interested in my insight."

_Which I'm sure you offered with grace and tact. Don't need to go there right now, we have enough to deal with downstairs without starting something else._ Daria said, "But you seem to be getting along fine up here."

Gina said, "Yeah. Your grandmother's fun."

Tess smiled and said, "Michael, you're lucky to have such a delightful young lady as a sister."

"She can be…at times." 

Gina innocently smiled and said, "And I've told them such wonderful stories about you."

"I'm sure I can share a few about you," Michael retorted.

Bringing the subject back on topic, Daria said, "Meanwhile, Dad and Ron are locked outside while Mom and Samantha are stewing downstairs." 

"Speaking of our dads," Gina said, "Do we have any alternate plans for dinner?"

"Mom called for pizza delivery, so you're not going to starve. And Quinn, one of those was cheeseless."

"Oh, thanks."

Michael said, "We should start thinking about getting our fathers inside, before they do some real damage to themselves or the neighborhood."

"You're right." Daria agreed. "But first, Grandma, can you tell me what happened?" 

"Well, we were discussing what all of us do for a living…"

* * *

Quinn, Sandi and Gina kept the door open a crack to watch for Daria and Michael emerging from Daria's room, where they'd gone after hearing Tess's explanation.

Swiftly, the door opened. "I don't believe it." Daria loudly sniffed at the air. "Can you smell the estrogen? They're trying to prove who has the biggest ovaries." 

"Two alpha females fighting for dominance," Michael said. "Just what we needed."

Quinn and Sandi looked at each other knowingly and shrugged, their old rivalry long set aside.

Daria shook her head as she walked steadily toward the stairs. "An whose bright idea was this?"

Michael followed, "Mine, I know. But you thought it was a good idea, too."

Suddenly shocked, Quinn, Sandi and Gina quietly followed, stopping at the top of the stairs to listen.

Helen stirred from her chair in the kitchen upon hearing Daria's sad, quiet voice. "This isn't working."

Coming downstairs with Daria, Michael said softly, "I don't know why we thought it would."

Daria stopped partway down the stairs. "We thought it would give us incentive to keep trying, remember?" 

Samantha leaned to the side to listen better.

"Yeah, but even that plan fell on its face. It's only making things harder," said Michael.

"The best laid plans…"

Michael lightly touched Daria's cheek. "I'm sorry."

Helen quietly moved into the living room from the kitchen and stood behind the sofa Samantha was sitting on. Samantha looked back, her annoyance at Helen fading.

"Don't be," Daria replied, gently moving his hand away. "You're a kind, quietly romantic gentleman who has done nothing wrong."

"Part of me understands that it's nobody's fault…but I still feel that someone like you deserves better."

"Still sweet, though you really think too much of me."

"I'm the one out of my league."

Samantha got up and asked, "Children, is there a problem?"

Shrugging, Daria and Michael looked at each other.

Stepping up beside Samantha, Helen said, "We're your mothers and you know you can't hide something from us."

Michael sighed heavily. "It's just…things seem so overwhelming."

Samantha remembered the many times she and Ron felt the pressures of life and said, "We know what you're feeling. It happens to all couples."

"How do you keep going?" Daria asked.

Helen thought of the good times and bad with Jake, and the spark that always kept them going. "Your love will give you the patience…if you let it." 

Daria said, "You make it sound too easy."

"It only sounds that way," Samantha replied. "Trust me." 

Helen directed them toward the kitchen. "I'll fix some coffee, and then we can talk."

* * *

After Daria and Michael went back upstairs, Samantha and Helen remained at the kitchen table. Helen rolled a coffee cup between her hands. "Michael's a pretty good actor."

Samantha set her cup on the table. "So is Daria."

"If they'd tried that on anyone but us, they'd have been completely convincing." 

"You have to admit though; they succeeded at what they wanted."

"That, they did. You know, after years of fighting with my sisters, you'd think I'd have learned not to get upset so easily. We've talked on the phone so many times, I knew you weren't like that."

"After how many times I've told workers to think before they act, you'd think I'd have learned to think before I spoke. On the way here, Ron even joked about someone making a stupid comment. Looks like it was my turn." Samantha softly laughed, saying, "Looks like they got even for us helping them get back together last year."

"It says something that they want us to get along."

"I haven't seen somebody as glassy-eyed as my son since I was dating Ron."

"Nor I like Daria…since I looked in the mirror when I was dating Jake."

"Speaking of our husbands…think we should let them back in?"

Helen nodded. "They've had a couple hours of martinis, lighter fluid and overcooked meat. They're probably best of friends by now." 

Samantha stood. "What is it with guys and fire? You get two of them together…boom."

Helen also rose and the two women walked to the sliding glass door to the back yard. "I sometimes think it's a burnt offering to some obscure god of male bonding."

"Maybe. Let's hope the burnt offering wasn't their eyebrows. Ron's a little protective of the hair he has left on his head."

* * *

Upstairs, Daria and Michael met Quinn, worriedly leaning out into the hall from her room and whispering, "Oh my god, what happened? Are you…?" 

Daria said, "Relax, Quinn. It was an act." 

Relieved, Quinn said, "Damn, Daria. You two almost had us crying up here."

Beside her, Gina elbowed Quinn. "What do you mean, almost?"

"Yeah, Quinn," Sandi added, looking over Gina's shoulder. "You went through more tissues than both of us."

"Our mothers' guilt was already getting to them, that's why they didn't want to talk about it. Michael and I figured that if we could get them to start talking, they'd admit that they both overreacted," Daria explained.

"But, we had to be careful." Michael added. "If we seemed angry at each other, they might've taken sides and make things worse."

"A very convincing performance," Tess said, still seated on Quinn's bed. "And, it's been very pleasant to see two mothers supporting their children's relationship." Unnoticed by the others, she folded her hands on her lap and looked down in contemplation, thinking of Jake's mother, Ruth.

Holding hands with Michael, Daria said, "I guess I did earn that 'A' in theater last summer." 

"But, how does that explain my performance?" Michael asked.

"I've learned that you have many hidden talents," Daria said with a wry smile.

"That is way too much information!" Quinn said, holding her hands over her ears.

"Nonsense," Gina said. After a look of disbelief at Quinn, she said to Daria, "Come on, we want details."

* * *

Standing in the parking lot of Do Me A Donut after breakfast the next morning, Jake said, "We'd love to visit! We can have another cookout!" 

"I'll introduce you to Uncle Ray's Nitro Juice," Ron said, already planning ahead.

"Dad, isn't that the stuff you use to clean the lawnmower's carburetor?" Michael asked.

Daria whispered in his ear, "You realize that we've created a monster, don't you?"

"Honey," Samantha said, "Remember what I said about bringing that stuff in the house?"

Ron hugged his wife with one arm. "Don't worry; I'll keep it in the garage fire cabinet."

Samantha kissed his cheek and said, "I'm still thinking about picking up a Nomex suit for the next time you cook on the grill."

"Hmm. You still love me," Ron said as he and his wife started to get into their car.

"Do you see what I have to put up with all the way home?" Gina teased.

"Would you rather put up with us again?" Daria asked.

Gina closed the car door and said through the open window, "Tempting…but I want to get home to my bed."

Samantha said, "Daria, it has once again been a pleasure to see you."

"Thanks, Samantha. And you, Ron."

Ron waved. "Take care, and try to keep my miscreant son out of trouble."

"I'll try," Daria said, faintly smiling.

"Mom, Dad, I'm glad you had a good time."

Samantha said, "We had a wonderful time. Thank you, and drive safe going home." 

Standing next to Quinn's car, waiting for a ride to the train station, Tess said, "It has been very interesting meeting you. I hope you also have a safe trip home."

Samantha waved and called, "It's been a pleasure. Enjoy your trip back, too!" 

Helen hugged Samantha through the window. "It's been delightful finally meeting you."

"The same," Samantha replied. "We have a lot in common."

As they gazed over at Daria and Michael, Helen said, "Yes, we do." 

"Try not to drive Mom and Dad too crazy, brat," Michael said.

"I wouldn't do that. I want to keep them 'just right'," Gina said.

Amid multiple good-byes, the Fultons pulled away and headed toward the interstate. Daria said, "Good-bye, Grandma."

"Good-bye, Daria, and you, Michael. Helen, Jake, you take care, also."

"Thanks, Mother," Helen answered.

Jake also answered, "I'll try to keep her out of trouble!"

Helen raised one foot over Jake's. He quickly moved it away and both traded knowing grins. 

Once Tess and Quinn settled into the red sports car, Helen said, "Drive careful, Quinn."

"I will, Mom. Daria, Michael, see you later."

They waved back and then Quinn drove away. Finally, Daria hugged Helen. "Thanks for having them over. It meant a lot."

Michael nodded and said, "My thanks, also."

Helen hugged him and said, "It was a pleasure. It was great to finally meet your parents face to face."

"And thanks to you and Mom for helping us," Michael said.

Helen smiled and said, "You're welcome. It's in our interest, you know."

Jake hugged Daria next and said, "See you later, Kiddo. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, Dad. Try to keep Mom sane." 

"Will do!"

Amid more waves and good-byes, Michael and Daria left the parking lot and started home for Boston. 

Looking back at her parents, Daria said to Michael, "Another disaster averted."

"Yep. Daria, have you noticed that our parents seem to act closer to each other when we're around?" 

"Hmm. Now that you mention it, yes. Does this mean we're being a good influence?"

"Now, that's a scary thought."

* * *

Home from their long drive, Gina went straight to her room, giving only a quick, "I'm beat. See you in the morning," to her parents.

Ron and Samantha went to their room to start unpacking. Samantha stopped and grinned before looking through a box of old cassette tapes. She chose one, put it in the stereo, and put one arm around Ron's waist. "Remember this?"

_This thing called love I just can't handle it This thing called love I must get round to it I ain't ready Crazy little thing called love.  
This (This Thing) called love  
(Called Love)_

* * *

"Bye, Mom! Sandi and I will be back by eleven!" Quinn called as she and Sandi left.

Helen waited a couple minutes after her daughter left before stepping over to start the CD player. She returned to the sofa and sat next to Jake, smiling. "Remember this?"

_When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now,  
Will you still be sending me a Valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine?  
If I'd been out 'till quarter to three, would you lock the door?  
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,  
When I'm sixty-four?_

* * *

Reading the note Rita had left on the table, Tess sighed and said, "Hope springs eternal." She placed her luggage on the floor and went to the telephone, hoping the idea she had on the train ride back would work.

Tess flipped through her address book and found an old number written there, badly faded after many years. She dialed, waited patiently for a "Hello?" on the other end, and then said, "Ruth? This is Tess Barksdale. Do you have a little time to talk?"

* * *

Lyrics for _Crazy Little Thing Called Love_ by Freddie Mercury  
Lyrics for _When I'm 64_ by John Lennon and Paul McCartney

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

April-May 2006.


	20. Melody of Life

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the forty-seventh story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Melody of Life**

In her cubicle at the editorial office of the Raft University Press, Daria leaned her left elbow on the desk, with her chin resting on that hand. Her right hand hovered on the edge of a computer keyboard and from time to time, one finger tapped the page down key to scroll the manuscript displayed on the monitor.

"What pretentious crap," she muttered, barely able to force herself to continue reading.

Her blond hair tied into a bun, Shelly Crause; peeked over from the next cubicle and said, "Sounds like you have a real winner today."

Daria turned and blinked her eyes to relieve the strain. "Another pompous ass that doesn't want clear writing to get in the way of showing off his vocabulary."

"Right now, I think I'd take that over all these formulas."

"Math text?"

"You'd think. No, it's an ecology book."

"They say that all science has math at its core."

"I'm starting to believe it. They don't show you this stuff on the TV nature shows." 

"Formulas just aren't photogenic enough."

"Dr. Tinsdale's latest masterpiece?" Daria's boss said while looking over her shoulder at the monitor. "No wonder your interest is wandering. That old windbag can bore anyone to tears."

"Oh, hi Dr. Findlay," she replied.

"Daria, did you finish proofreading the Takara manuscript?"

"Friday. I dropped the Zip disk in the 'finished' basket on my way out." 

"Can you please check to see if you accidentally left it on your desk? I can't find it."

Seeing his "don't argue with me" face, Daria said, "I'll check." 

"Please bring it to my office when you find it." 

"What if it's not on my desk?"

"You were the last one to handle it, so I expect you to find it." 

"Yes, Dr. Findlay."

After the older man walked away, Shelly faintly whistled and said, "He's not happy." 

Saving the current file on her computer, Daria said, "I know I handed that disc in for the subject editors."

"Better look anyway; you know how he gets."

Daria rolled her eyes before starting to search her cluttered desk.

* * *

Walking up the stairs to her apartment, Daria sorted the day's mail as a distraction. "Junk, junk for Jane, more junk, electric bill, junk for Karen, catalog for Jane, and…" The final item was a large, thick envelope. She hurriedly opened the door and rushed in, dropping the remaining mail on the dining table as she opened the large envelope.

**Dear Ms. Morgendorffer, **

Your latest manuscript, "Ides of Spring", has been accepted for publication, pending minor revision. Enclosed is your manuscript with the recommended edits, along with our standard publishing agreements and contracts. Please review the recommended edits and submit your revised manuscript and/or rebuttals within 30 days of receipt. Please sign and return the publishing agreements with your revised manuscript.

Thank you for choosing _Literature in Action_.

On a personal note, I'll miss Melody Powers. However, I understand that as a young author, you wish to move on to other things. Thank you for providing a proper end story for the character. I wish you the best in your future endeavors and hope this will not mean the end of contributions to our magazine. 

Smiling, she sat down to start examining the papers. "The day has improved."

* * *

Stretched out on the sofa and pencil in hand, Daria closely examined the manuscript and the changes suggested by the editors.

**"You're kidding me," Melody said to The Director. "My retirement starts in a week."**

The Director ran his hands over his smoothly shaven head as if it still sported long-lost hair. "Then you have an incentive to complete the mission quickly."

Melody dropped down into a chair and said, "Give me the details."

"I think you recognize this man," The Director said, passing a dossier to Melody.

Her face darkened as she opened the folder to a portrait photograph. "Grigory Perchenko. So the bastard made it out of the Leopard Station. I'm sure an old hardline communist like him doesn't appreciate the new order in Russia."

"That's why you're going in. He's planning to take control of an ICBM launch facility and decapitate the new government. The communists plan to step in to the resultant power vacuum."

Melody shook her head and asked, "Isn't this really an internal Russian problem?" 

"Yes, but our source in the KGB doesn't know who in the organization to trust with the information. So, he came to us for help."

"Does this source have a name?" 

"Pyotr Demidov."

Melody felt a simultaneous cold chill as her heart started to race. "Pyotr…" 

Hearing the door thump open, Daria looked up at the arrival of her roommate. Jane dragged herself inside and closed the door, leaning back against it. Her hair was a mop-like mess and numerous splashes, streaks and drips of paint covered her from head to foot. 

Daria asked her roommate, "What happened to you?" 

"Jackson Pollock Day. Boy, did the kids at the hospital have a blast."

"Am I safe in assuming that the room, the kids and all the staff within range look the same as you?" 

"I covered the room with tarps, but, well, yeah, everyone came out rather colorful."

"How much trouble did you get into?"

"Next time, I have to give housekeeping 24 hours warning and provide coveralls for the nurses. Oh, and add tarps to the ceiling."

Jane checked her mail and saw the large envelope for Daria. "Hey, this looks like good news."

Daria held the pack of papers up. "Melody rides one last time."

"Doesn't it feel weird?"

"Yes, but writing Melody was becoming harder for me."

"You're not the same teenager that introduced Melody to a coffeehouse crowd."

"No, I'm not, just like you're not the same person who made Pottery Blam." 

"Yeah, what was I thinking? My old bedroom wall was a lousy location." Jane picked up the _To a Pulp_ Specialty Paper catalog and started thumbing through it. An ornate, white envelope fell out, addressed to Daria. "Hey, looks like you missed something."

"What?"

Jane tossed the envelope to Daria, who fumbled and dropped it on her lap. She picked it up and saw that it was two identical envelopes that were stuck together. Daria tossed the second back to Jane. "This one's yours."

Jane caught the envelope as Daria opened hers and read the enclosed card. She said, "Ah, Aunt Amy's formal wedding invitations. Weekend after Labor Day."

"This looks like it's going to be some kind of fancy shindig and another trip into bridesmaid land for you. Think the world's trying to tell you something?"

"Considering what the guy she's marrying does for a living and that his family's fortune makes the Sloanes look middle class, it's telling me that anything can happen." 

Jane laughed. "Yeah, he's more along the lines of someone I picture Melody going for."

* * *

The next afternoon, Daria held a book tight against a photocopier and watched the back and forth wash of green light as a copy was made. Only a third of the copier machines lined up along the library wall were occupied, far different from spring and fall semesters when all of them would be busy and a line formed to get the next free machine. She shifted the book to the next page and hit the copy button again. After seeing the copy feed into the receiver tray, Daria closed the book and stacked it on a nearby cart for reshelving. She then pushed the "eject" button and collected her copier card from the reader, mentally noting the credit left on it.

After a stop by the front desk to staple several articles together, Daria placed them in a notebook and that into her backpack. Once out of the library, she checked her watch and said, "I can still hit up the subject editors and have time to fight traffic over to Michael's place."

* * *

After the usual safari of finding a parking space near Michael's apartment building, Daria stepped out and slammed the door of her car. She clenched her fists and struggled to contain her frustration. "So, none of them have that miserable disk." Daria closed her eyes and measured her breathing, gaining control of the tension. "Don't let it spoil the evening."

After several minutes, Daria felt calm enough to head inside. As she neared the front of the building, Daria walked past a couple of other residents coming out of the door.

One of them turned his head as he walked past and said, "Nice legs."

His friend elbowed him and said in a harsh whisper, "Forget it, that's probably not even a girl."

"Huh?"

"Hangs out with those guys in 203."

"Oh…eww." 

Daria stopped a couple steps up the stairs and clenched her teeth. "Your inability to recognize a female doesn't bode well for your future reproductive success. The rest of the human race will be eternally grateful." Without looking back, she continued up the stairs.

* * *

Michael's gentle embrace drained away Daria's frustration at the morons below as he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered and accepted the comfort of his arms. 

"Any luck with the missing file?"

"No. I'll deal with it tomorrow. You mentioned that you had something planned?"

He released Daria and swept his hand toward the kitchen. "This way."

Seeing dinner already prepared and placed on the simple, but neatly set table, Daria said, "You're really getting into cooking."

Hands around her waist, Michael leaned his head over Daria's shoulder to say, "It's surprisingly fun. Besides, I owe you for more than a few dinners."

The disk completely forgotten, she leaned back and kissed his cheek. "Come to think of it, you do." 

"I'll take that as a request for payment."

"You can take your time."

Leading her to the table, Michael said, "Congratulations."

Daria took her seat and picked up the yellow carnation by her plate, smelling it. "Thank you."

Michael sat and said, "Somehow, I have the feeling you originally never pictured that twist to a Melody story." 

"You can safely say that. My mood was quite different when I wrote 'Summer' two years ago."

* * *

**"Pyotr," Melody carefully said to a handsome man seated in a small restaurant in Moscow.**

He paused for a moment in surprise before rising and pulling the seat on the opposite side of the small table out for his guest. In Russian, he said, "Melody, please, be seated."

Back in his seat, Pyotr said, "I heard that you were no longer in the toy business."

"You know how rumors are," she answered while struggling not to betray the unease in her stomach. 

"I'm pleasantly surprised to learn that they were misguided." The KGB agent picked up a menu and presented it to Melody. "I've not ordered yet. Please, join me. On my company's expense account."

She opened the menu and started to read, glad for the break in conversation.

Pyotr raised his, relieved at the chance to settle his nerves after Melody's surprise appearance.

Daria stopped typing and saved the file on her computer. The clock by her bed said 11:10. "Already? I better get to bed." Turning back to the computer, she read the last section and said, "Yes, very different from when I started writing about you," before closing the program and shutting down the computer.

* * *

Seeing Daria walk by, Shelly turned her chair and asked, "Was the disk at home?"

"No sign," Daria replied. She sat down and started her computer. "After I went to the library yesterday, I also asked the subject editors if they'd seen it, and nobody has. I'll have to make a copy from the working file on my hard disk. Dr. Findlay won't have the unaltered original, but all the proofreading corrections will be there."

"I hope looking for the stupid disk didn't spoil your evening Monday." 

"No. An acceptance letter for one of my stories made the search tolerable."

"Oh, cool. Do anything to celebrate?"

"Michael made dinner last night." 

"Oooh, that sounds like it was fun."

"As much as the law would allow."

Shelly laughed and went back to her work. "You kill me."

Daria refrained from another comment and logged in to her computer. While that was finishing, she took a blank disk from a box on her desk and inserted it into the drive. After pulling up the manager and looking through her files, Daria didn't see the one she was seeking. "Oh, crap." 

"Huh?" Shelly asked.

"It's not here." 

"Did you delete it?"

"No." Daria sank back in her seat. "Damn, I must've moved the file to the Zip disk instead of copying it."

"Oh man, that sucks."

"No kidding. Now I really have to find that stupid disk. You know that if we have to ask Dr. Takara for another copy of that manuscript, my ass is out on the sidewalk."

"But, where could it be?"

"Somebody had to have picked it up by mistake. It's just a matter of figuring out whom." 

"That'll be simple. How many blue Zip disks are floating around here?"

"Too many. I hope I can find it before somebody decides to wipe it for their own use."

Dr. Findlay left his office and called while still halfway across the room, "Did you find it?"

"No, sir," Daria replied. "But, I'll keep looking."

"Do that, but don't neglect your other work. I expect both that Tinsdale manuscript and the Takara manuscript before you leave Friday, or don't bother showing up Monday."

After her boss returned to his office and the other employees pointedly went back to work, Shelly quietly said to Daria, "He's still working on the whole subtlety thing."

"But he's got the whole public humiliation thing down pat."

* * *

**Kneeling beside his still body, the cool skin of their contact's wrist told Melody that she didn't need to check further for a pulse. A faint motion behind Pyotr confirmed to her that they'd entered a trap. Pistol in hand, Melody dropped, twisting and leaning forward to get a clear shot around her partner's crouching form. The sound of her gunshot seemed particularly long, until Melody realized that the sound of her gun melded into that of Pyotr's firing a fraction of a second later.**

Melody's target gasped and collapsed forward, machine pistol clattering on the pavement. The thud of a body hitting the ground made her twist around to see Pyotr lowering his handgun and a second failed assassin bleeding behind her. Melody said, "I think we're now in each other's debt." 

Pyotr looked back at Melody's target and said, "Our lives are each other's."

The many different implications of his statement caused her heart, already pounding from adrenaline, beat faster. Scanning the area for more threats and controlling her feelings, Melody said, "We'll have to get into the launch complex the old-fashioned way."

Unaccustomed sweat cooled his hand before Pyotr touched the shoulder of the unforgettable woman kneeling next to him. "The southwest approach will be the least expected."

Her breath caught a moment before she asked, "Why is that?" knowing she probably wouldn't like the answer.

"That is where the attack dogs are kenneled."

Daria stopped editing the story and took a couple steps over to her dresser to answer the ringing cell phone. "Hello."

On a matching cell phone her sister Quinn said, "Hey Sis, how are you?"

"Hi, Quinn. This week has me feeling like a bouncing ball."

"Oh?" 

"Well, my Melody story was accepted."

Quinn exclaimed, "Great!" and jumped a little, startling her friend Sandi, standing next to her, as well as the fifty-something gentleman standing in the middle of the small, open apartment all three occupied.

"But, if I don't find a missing computer disk by Friday, I'm unemployed."

"They'd fire you for losing one disk?"

"My old boss, probably not. The one I have now, without a moment's hesitation or regret." 

"That sucks."

"No kidding. Now that we've discussed my life, what about yours? I'm sure there's a good reason for this call."

"I'm doing okay. But, yeah. I did have a reason."

"Yes?"

"Um, Sandi found a really, really nice apartment. It's an efficiency close to Lawndale State, but she needs a little help."

"My job's hanging by a string right now…"

"Not that kind. She has the money. She just needs a reference that doesn't live with her."

"What about Stacy or Tiffany?" 

"That's two. She needs three references. Since Sandi lives at Mom and Dad's, I can't be one."

Daria leaned forward against her dresser, thinking about what Sandi had been through in the previous year. "I'll do it."

"Thanks, Daria. We're at the apartment; do you want to talk to the guy now?" 

"Won't he be a little suspicious?"

"Um, I already gave him your contact information. I hope you don't mind." 

Daria sighed. "Next time, please ask first. Put him on." 

The landlord gruffly asked, "Hey, you Miss Daria Morgendorffer?"

"Yes."

"You known Miss Griffin for long?"

"A little over four and half years."

"Does she have good character?" 

"She's matured a lot in the time I've known her." 

"She do any drugs or anything illegal like that?" 

"Not to my knowledge. She's always taken good care of her body and drugs wouldn't fit into that."

"Hmm. Okay. Thank you, miss."

"You're welcome." 

Sandi took the phone and said, "Um, like, thanks Daria." 

"No problem. I hope you enjoy your apartment." 

Quinn got on the phone and said, "Yeah, thanks Daria." 

"It's the right thing to do. How are Mom and Dad?" 

"Busy as ever. I swear: Mom's back to working just as hard as she did before she became partner."

"We knew it couldn't last. A part of me always thought she was happier working too hard, though I'd started to hope otherwise." 

"Yeah. Anyway, congratulations on the story and good luck with the disk thing."

"Thanks, Quinn." 

Feeling something rubbing against her ankle, Daria looked down at her cat, Bump. She said, "Somebody's telling me that it's their dinner time. I suppose I have been neglecting the poor little beast lately."

Quinn laughed and said, "Oh, the cat. At first, I thought you were talking about Michael." 

"He's learning to cook for himself. The dinner he made for me to celebrate the story was nice."

"Does he try to make strange stuff like Dad?"

"Michael's staying with the basics. He hasn't gotten adventuresome, yet." 

"Lucky you. Anyway, I'll let you feed the cat and talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye, Quinn." Daria closed the cell phone and reached down, picking up the black cat. Scratching Bump behind one ear, Daria said, "I know that missing disk isn't your problem. I'm sorry for being neglectful."

Bump meowed and rubbed her muzzle under Daria's chin.

Carrying her to the kitchen, Daria said to the cat, "Thanks, I needed that."

* * *

Happily purring, Bump half-slumbered on Daria's lap while she continued her story revision.

**Wearing a dark gray, hooded coverall, Melody slowly crawled from a shallow ditch to the fence surrounding the kennel. Similarly clad, Pyotr crawled beside her, holding a small box. Moving with precision, she placed the small, ratchet-assisted cutters against the chain link fencing and held a rag around it as she worked. The cloth silenced the slight twang as the steel wire parted and she moved to the next section. Once a small hole was open in the fence, Pyotr placed the box against it and opened one end, allowing a perturbed tabby to escape. The two agents slid back to the ditch as the guard dogs started to loudly bark at the cat running alongside their cages.**

A guard exited the blockhouse at the end of the kennel and looked around, rifle at the ready. The cat bolted past his feet and around the building. The guard grunted a laugh and rapped the kennel fencing with his rifle butt. "Shut up! It's only a cat, you stupid mongrels!" 

The guard stepped back inside the building and closed the door. Melody started to rise up to sprint across the compound when she felt a kiss on her cheek.

"For luck," Pyotr said. "I saw that in an American movie."

Melody half-smirked and replied, "I better not find out that you're my brother."

* * *

"Daria?" Dr. Findlay asked, "What are you doing here? You don't usually work on Thursdays."

She looked up from her hands and knees. "I also don't normally crawl around on the floor. I'm checking to see if the missing disk was kicked under a desk or something."

Findlay rubbed his chin. "Hmm. Say, how bad is it under those desks? Has the cleaning crew been doing the job properly?"

Daria stood, brushing off her bare knees and old shorts. "Much to my misfortune if the disk had fallen down there, the custodians are doing their job." 

The editor-in-chief motioned to his office door. Daria went in and Dr. Findlay said as he closed it, "Signing Dr. Takara away from Crestmore University Press was a big coup for us and I'm not looking forward to explaining to him, or the Board of Regents, that we lost his manuscript. They're going to want somebody's head, and I'm sorry Daria, but you were the last one to handle the manuscript."

Stopping at a guest chair, Daria said, "I understand, but I still can't figure out what happened to it. Not unless I start coming up with some conspiracy theories about someone stealing the disk to make us look bad."

Dr. Findlay walked around behind his desk. "I'd almost start believing them. My selection to lead the press office wasn't the most popular and losing an important contributor will provide ammunition to those who want me out."

"So I'm the sacrificial lamb." 

"Daria, anyone in the editorial office would be terminated under the same circumstances. I really don't have a choice. If it's any comfort; one lamb may not be enough to appease the gods."

"If it's also your job on the line, why haven't you been helping?"

"I have. I've just been doing it quietly. I've literally torn this office apart after hours looking for the disk in case I was the guilty party and I've quietly checked in other places."

Daria narrowed her eyes. "You're starting to sound like you think somebody intentionally took the disk."

"It's a possibility I can no longer ignore."

"Just great. How am I supposed to find it now?"

* * *

On the back lawn of the house, Jane aimed the Super-Shooter water rifle at a canvas propped up in the middle of a large tarp. Streaks of orange paint hit the canvas and splashed with satisfactory effect. "Now if I can just figure a way to change colors faster."

Coming down the outside stairs and dressed in all black, Daria said, "Wish me luck?"

"What's with the 'Quinn the Brain' look?"

"I'm going to make one more search for the missing disk."

"Oooh. Gonna break into your boss's office?"

"Nothing so exciting. I'm going to check the dumpster behind the building to see if it was thrown out."

"And the get-up?" 

"The campus police are bored and discourage dumpster diving. They don't want the overcharged students scamming a few freebies from the trash."

"Daria, is the job worth it?"

"So far," Daria replied. She opened her car door and added, "I still like the work itself and I get free previews of some good books. Seeing all kinds of different writing styles is fascinating and it gives me useful insights. And, all the proofreading has helped me to spot errors in my writing. Overall, it's great experience."

"But, your boss is a jerk." 

"Okay, there's a big downside to the job."

"I really hope it's worth it."

"Me, too."

* * *

Pulling on long rubber gloves, Michael said, "I hope you realize that this absolutely proves that I love you." 

Sitting on the curb beside a dumpster, Daria pulled heavy rubber over-boots on and said, "Nothing says love like dumpster diving under the summer moonlight."

Michael slid the side door open and looked inside the dumpster. "Ugh. If that disk went out with the trash last weekend, it's going to be at the bottom."

Daria joined him and said, "Good thing I don't work at the cafeteria."

Michael braced one foot on the lifting pocket of the dumpster and pulled himself up and crawled inside. "So you wouldn't recommend looking for dinner in here?" 

Daria clumsily repeated the process, accepting Michael's help to get through the door. "If you'd rather graze locally than let me buy something later…"

He studied a piece of paper and said, "Eh, I probably have enough fiber in my diet." 

Daria pulled the side door almost closed to hide them from casual observation and handed Michael a small flashlight. Faces twisted in disgust, they started digging through a week's worth of departmental trash.

Almost an hour later, Michael opened an envelope and pulled a blue Zip disk from inside. Shining his flashlight on it, he showed it to Daria. "Is this it?" 

Barely able to restrain from shouting, Daria exclaimed, "Yes! Where was it?"

"It was inside some junk mail that was taped shut, and in a bag with a bunch of other junk mail." 

"Crap." She exhaled hard and took the disk and envelope. "This wasn't an accident."

"Somebody really doesn't like your boss."

"No kidding, and I don't like being collateral damage."

He opened the side door and stooped down while locking his fingers together to form a step. "Let's get out of here."

She placed her foot on the hand cradle and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a kiss. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, but can we save the rest until we're out of here, and maybe had a shower?" 

Accepting the boost, Daria carefully crawled out and dropped to the ground. "Tell you what. I'll scrub your back and tell you how much I appreciate your help."

* * *

Scooping cereal from a bowl while reading edits to her story on the computer, Daria tried to make a little more progress on the story before going to work.

**"Sorry, comrade. Those days are over," Pyotr said to the deceased guard as he pulled him out of sight. "And you're not bringing them back. Good riddance to the party and good riddance to you."**

Stepping around Pyotr, Melody moved to the next door. She put up one hand when he returned, pointing to thin sliver of light under a door.

He moved to provide cover while Melody kept low and opened the door. She rolled inside the room and scanned the makeshift video studio. A tripod-mounted camera was still pointed at a plain desk with the hammer and sickle on the false wall behind it. Slumped forward onto the desktop was a man in a business suit with blood seeping away from his head.

Following a fast check for tripwires or other triggers, Melody stepped around the desk to see the man's face. "Grigory Perchenko," she said unemotionally.

Looking at the tape slot in the video recorder, Pyotr said, "Empty. It would appear that Mr. Perchenko was only a puppet. One that is no longer needed."

Melody pulled a bloodstained sheet of paper from Perchenko's hand and read it. "The best kind of scapegoat is one that you've made sure can no longer talk. If this is what was recorded, he was planning to destroy Moscow and then state that he would 'rescue Mother Russia from the fools that allowed it to happen.'"

Pyotr said, "So somebody else is planning on doing the 'rescuing'. I'm sure they'll report that Mr. Perchenko died a valiant death and that 'it is with great regret' that they have to step forward to take his place."

Moving to the door, Melody said, "We still have a missile launch to stop. We can worry about who was pulling Perchenko's strings later."

* * *

Behind his desk, Dr. Findlay looked at the disk and envelope inside a plastic bag. "Daria, I'm deeply in your debt." 

Half-serious, Daria said, "Would this be a good time to ask for a raise?"

He pulled a form labeled "Personnel Action" from a tiered holder on his desk. "Unfortunately, you're maxed out on salary as a student employee."

"I was hoping…"

He started filling out the form. "Will you take benefits instead?"

"Dr. Findlay?" 

"I'm making you half-time career service. You'll get health and dental insurance and accrue half the regular vacation and sick leave of full-time staff, one hour each per week. Plus, pro-rated holiday pay."

Daria stared at her boss in total surprise.

He completed the form, placed it in an inter-office envelope and put it in his outgoing mail. "I made the reclassification effective today."

Daria found her voice and got out, "Thank you."

"No, Daria. Thank you. I'm realistic enough to know that your motivation was primarily self-interest. But, you've gained an ally." He produced a rare smile. "Just don't expect any favoritism in the workplace."

"I…didn't expect any."

Findlay folded his fingers together and said, "Now to see if anyone comes sniffing around about the presumed missing manuscript." 

"What can you do about it if someone does?" 

"Right now? Nothing. But, I'll know who to watch." 

"What about the police?"

"We only have your word that the disk was in that dumpster. Besides, if it doesn't involve money, grades, or sex, this is the kind of faculty politics the campus police have learned to avoid."

* * *

Visibly worried, Shelly asked, "Any luck?" as Daria arrived at her work cubicle.

Daria dropped into her chair and leaned back. "I got to play Melody Powers for the evening, but I found the disk and hope I never have to repeat the effort."

"You really went dumpster diving?" 

"That's where I found it."

"No offense, but…eww."

"No offense in return, but can we talk about something else?"

"Sorry. How's the story revision coming along?"

"Almost done. Mainly just cleaning up the last scene." Daria looked down and admitted, "I'm going to miss Melody. We've come a long way together."

"But, no more sequels?"

"I want to give her story a clean finish."

* * *

Enjoying the noonday sun after a morning in the air-conditioned office, Daria sat on a bench in the Quad and unpacked her lunch. While eating her sandwich, she watched a mockingbird hunting for its lunch among the blades of grass. The gray and white bird hopped from place to place and froze, then after a second, spreading its wings to startle small insects. Focusing on the bird, she jumped a little when she heard her old supervisor say, "You seem to be taking things rather well."

Daria looked up and said, "Dean Killarny, what do you mean?"

"You were such a good proofreader at the Press. It's a pity you were caught up in Dr. Findlay's problems. I hope you can find something soon. Give me a call if you need a reference."

Despite the sun's warmth, Daria felt a chill as she remembered seeing Dr. Killarny in the office just as she was leaving on the day the disk disappeared. Faintly, she recalled him nodding to her and moving toward the completed work bin. _Oh…crap._ "Um, thanks, but I'm still at the Press and don't have any plans on leaving soon." 

He looked momentarily surprised and then said, "Oh, that's good news. That should be a lesson to me not to listen to rumors."

"I guess so."

"Anyway, have a nice day."

"You, too."

Her hunger evaporated, Daria numbly looked at the sandwich as Dean Killarny walked away. This betrayal by a faculty member she admired was cold, calculated and really had nothing to do with her. Daria was a tool just as interchangeable and expendable as anyone else in the office. She wondered how much of the concern and how many of the pleasantries he'd shown before were as false as what she'd just endured. "Now I know what a pawn feels like."

* * *

**In the mountains of Montana, Melody carried two cups of coffee onto the deck of a comfortable cabin and placed them on a table. She took a seat while Pyotr followed carrying two plates holding scrambled eggs. After setting both in place, he gazed around. "A beautiful view, Mel…Louise."**

"It is, Steven," she replied, still also making an effort to remember their new identities.

He stepped behind, placing his arms around her shoulders and kissing her neck. "Even better with someone to share it with."

She sighed and raised one of his hands to her lips. "Someone you can trust."

"It's been so long since I'd felt it."

They spent a couple minutes like that, gazing at the peaceful morning scene. Finally, he reluctantly let go and stepped around to his chair.

Sitting, he reached for his cup and said, "I wonder now how many of our missions were real?"

Holding her cup in both hands, Melody/Louise said, "And how many of us died to protect our agencies' funding?"

"I've killed many out of a sense of duty, but my Bureau Chief was the first one that gave me a sense of justice."

"I'm sure we'll never hear an explanation of why my Director died beside him in a missile silo in Siberia. I think his death will be the only one I'll never regret." 

Pyotr/Steven raised his cup in a toast. "Here's hoping the Cold War is truly over."

Melody/Louise raised hers. "And that nothing arises to replace it."

Tilting her head slightly forward away from the soft kisses and turning to face Michael, Daria asked, "Do you think it was too much to use our middle names?"

He looked at the screen and said, "Only a handful of people will ever know. Besides, I like being included in the story."

Leaning back against his shoulder, Daria said, "I wish I could've solved the disk mystery as cleanly."

"True, you can't kill Killarny and Findlay."

"This isn't going to be the last volley between them, either."

"It might be a good idea to find another job."

Sitting up and turning to face Michael, Daria said, "I could, but dammit, I don't like being driven away because of a couple overgrown kids fighting over the sandbox. Killarny tried to charm me and Findlay's trying to bribe me."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Watch and listen. The black king and the white king are going to learn that there's a gray queen on the board."

* * *

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

June 2006


	21. Dividing Spiral

Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.  
Original characters and plot copyright Richard J. Lobinske. 2006.

This is the 48th story in the Falling into College series.

Richard Lobinske

**Dividing Spiral**

Nick Campbell threaded his tired old car away from the Lawndale Mall and down the residential streets of town. The open windows provided only partial relief from the August heat for him and the six-year old brunette seated next to him.

Ariel seemed unfazed by the temperature as she peeked into a shopping bag held on her lap. A red dress was neatly folded inside, along with a small box of new shoes. She looked up at her father with a bright smile. "Thank you, Daddy."

He reached over and patted her shoulder. "You're welcome, princess."

"Can I get the blue dress?" she innocently asked. "It's pretty." 

"I'll see what I can do," he answered.

Content, the little girl smiled again and leaned back in her seat to watch the scenery go by.

After several blocks, Nick asked, "Are you still excited about starting first grade?"

"Yes!" 

Nick smiled and whispered to himself, "Please stay that way."

Soon, Nick pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex. A worn "Vacancy" sign stood in front of an equally worn building. After parking, he reached into the back seat and picked up his daughter's overnight bag.

Ariel quickly unbuckled herself and pushed her door open to wait for her father. When he came around the car, she held the bag close to her chest and rushed inside the building. Nick sighed and jogged after, catching up when she stopped at a door and rang the doorbell.

A woman with hair the same shade of brown as Ariel's unlocked the door, opened it, and said, "Welcome home, sweetheart."

The girl held the bag up and excitedly said, "Look what Daddy got me!"

The woman looked at the dress and then opened the shoe box. "Oh, they're going to look pretty on you." Placing both back in the bag, she said, "Go put them in your room, please."

"Yes, Mommy."

After the girl left, the woman said, "Thanks, Nick."

"Wish it could've been more, Sara."

Sara shook her head and said, "Nick, I know you mean it, but you need to do more." 

"Once the band picks up…"

"Nick, Nick. That band isn't the answer. It's been over five years and you've gone nowhere. I think it's about time you started to look for something else."

"Sara, don't start…" 

"Yeah, I know. Fighting over the band is what broke us up. But this isn't about us anymore; it's about our daughter." 

"That was low."

"It's the truth. Nick, I only make so much as a cashier at Food Lord and food stamps don't buy clothes. I'm not asking for money to screw you over, I'm asking for Ariel's sake."

"Daddy's going to buy me a blue dress, too!" Ariel announced as she reentered the living room of the small apartment.

Sara silently mouthed, "Can you?" 

He whispered, "I'll find a way," and then said to Ariel, "Daddy needs to go. Come say goodbye."

Nick squatted to receive a hug from his daughter as she said, "Bye, Daddy."

"Goodbye, Ariel."

* * *

Looking at her friends Sandi, Tiffany, and Stacy as they left a table at Governor's Park, Quinn said, "I'm going to miss all of you."

Stacy said, "Gonna miss you, Quinn. Drive carefully."

"Yeah, Quinn. Be careful," Tiffany added.

Tiffany and Stacy started walking toward the exit, while Sandi held back. Quinn stopped and said, "Sandi?" 

Her hair still bleached blond, Sandi abruptly hugged Quinn and said, "I'm really going to miss you. I don't know how I would've have made it this summer."

"That's what friends are for, Sandi."

"If I can, would you mind if I moved out to California? Lawndale…doesn't feel like home anymore."

"Sandi, that would be great!"

"You really don't mind?"

"No, Sandi. I think you'll like it out there." Quinn looked around and then asked, "Uh, where'd Stacy and Tiffany go?"

"I think they left."

* * *

Stirring a cup of ramen noodles that constituted his dinner, Nick looked through the small window of his apartment at the railroad tracks on the edge of town. The rail tops gleamed with moonlight among the grey and black shadows cast over the line.

He set the cup on the sill and pulled out his wallet, opening it. "Six dollars. Six dollars to last until Spiral's gig next Friday." 

Nick closed his wallet and returned it to his pocket. He grabbed his dinner and started mindlessly consuming it as he looked at a group of photos on the wall. Ariel was prominent, from a ruddy-faced newborn to her kindergarten portrait. Nick turned away and dropped onto a threadbare recliner. Leaning back, he looked at a single picture of teenage newlyweds. "We were way too young to get married. But, Ariel's the best thing to come out of my life."

* * *

Early the following morning, Quinn leaned against her red Vexxer and talked on her cell phone. "It's about time you called back, Daria. I'm almost ready to leave Mom and Dad's." 

Sprawled on the sofa in her apartment, Daria said to her younger sister, "Sorry, Quinn, you know I don't like to talk while driving. Especially in Monday morning Boston traffic." 

"What were you doing on the road this early in the morning?"

"Um, I was at Michael's. I meant to be home before you left, but we kind of overslept. Sorry."

Quinn giggled and said, "For two days?"

"Well…" 

"Daria, I understand. It was his birthday, after all." 

"Thanks. You know that if you weren't heading to Pepperhill a week early, I could've come down to see you." 

"Yeah, but I wanted some extra time to settle into the Tri-Theta house and hang out with Fran."

"So, getting a head start on all those tanned beach boys had nothing to do with it?"

"Maybe a little. Anyway, I'm not too worried because we'll see each other at Amy's wedding next month." 

"That's going to be a challenge to get to, considering my work schedule. But if I'm late, Amy will kill me. Or more likely, she'll get her maid of honor to kill me."

"At least you don't have to fly across the country."

"Considering traffic on I-95, you're probably going to get there faster." 

"I'm kinda wishing I could fly out to California." 

"Not looking forward to four days of driver's butt?" 

"Ugh, and even with the air conditioner on, your back gets all sweaty and icky."

"Be strong, young Morgendorffer. Speaking of being strong, how are Mom and Dad?" 

"Mom's all fired up over her new case and Dad's excited about the new business that Jodie brought in this summer." 

"Now that we're not home underfoot, they really can spend more time with their careers."

"Um, yeah." 

"I was hoping that they could spend more time with each other."

"Daria, I'm sure they will after I leave. And we don't want to know the details, at least based on some of the misplaced items I've found. Eww."

"I'll second that eww, and please never tell me what they were."

"I think Sandi was scarred for life by what she found in the guest room."

"What a way to treat a guest. How are Sandi and the rest of the old Fashion Club?"

"Good. We got together for dinner at Governor's Park last night." 

"That's nice. How's married life treating Lindy and Trent?"

"They're happy. I stopped by to see Lindy before going to the dinner. She's still walking on clouds after the wedding."

Helen looked out of the front door and said, "Oh, there you are."

Holding her hand partly over the phone, Quinn said, "Daria called."

Her parents walked over and Helen said, "Oh good. I was hoping she'd call before you left."

"Hey, Kiddo!" Jake called. 

Quinn uncovered the phone and told Daria, "Mom and Dad are here."

Daria replied, "I never would've guessed."

* * *

Sound thundered and reverberated in the Lane basement as Mystic Spiral practiced. Following a painfully sour note, Trent cringed and stopped playing, followed by Jesse, Max and finally Nick. Trent said, "Whoa, Nick. What happened?"

"Oh, uh, sorry man. Just can't seem to get into the groove today," Nick replied.

Max said, "Get with it, Nick. We need to rock on Friday!"

"Yeah," Jesse said. "Friday's gonna be cool."

Nick set his bass guitar on a stand. "Maybe I just need to take a break."

"That's cool," Trent said. "Let's take five."

As a group, the four men went upstairs and directly to the kitchen. Trent opened the refrigerator and took out a covered bowl with a note on top that read, "Something to feed the bears."

Removing the lid, Trent said, "So that's why Lindy had me pick up chicken wings."

"Wings?" Jesse said, looking into the bowl and grabbing a handful. "Cool."

Putting the bowl on the kitchen table, Trent said, "Dig in," and sat down to help himself. Max joined in, and Nick sat down last. 

Watching the other band members devour the snack as he ate a piece, Nick thought, _Sara's right. We wouldn't have had those gigs in Boston without Jane and Daria's help, and even with Lindy setting up a website for us, we've only sold a couple hundred CDs and not even a nibble from some label. We're going nowhere._

* * *

Late the next morning, Nick's contemplation was interrupted by a woman asking, "Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"

The voice drew his attention away from the blue dress that Ariel had looked at and to the saleswoman standing behind him. "Um, no thanks. Looking around for school clothes for my daughter and getting prices."

"Okay, sir. But if you need anything, just let me know."

Hands in pockets, Nick wandered out of the store and into the main concourse of the mall. The crowd was thin as he dropped back into deep thought as he walked. Perhaps unconsciously drawn, or simply by random chance, he stopped in front of the mall's employment office. He stood up straight and ran his fingers through his hair to bring it under a modicum of control. Before he could change his mind, Nick pushed the door open and stepped inside.

* * *

Quinn was desperately relieved to reach an adobe-style house and park in the driveway. Stiff, she crawled out and leaned against the open door, bending backward to relieve and stretch tight muscles in her back. Feeling better, she took a suitcase from the car trunk and went to the house, enjoying the movement after her fourth day on the road.

Moments after Quinn rang the doorbell, it was opened by a petite young woman whose dark chocolate hair was held in a braid that fell to her knees. "Quinn!" she cried and hugged her friend.

"Fran!" Quinn squealed in response and returned the hug, dropping the suitcase in the process. 

"Come on in," Fran said. "How was your trip?" 

Quinn grabbed the luggage and followed, saying, "Fine. Just don't ask me to sit down."

"No problem. Want a drink?" Fran asked as she went into the kitchen.

"I don't suppose you have diet soda, do you?"

Fran reemerged seconds later with two cans. She handed one to Quinn and said, "I remembered and picked some up yesterday." 

"Thanks."

Fran's aunt stepped out of the kitchen and said, "Hi, Quinn."

"Hi, Beth. Thanks for letting me stay the night."

"Our pleasure." Beth nodded and returned to cooking dinner.

Quinn and Fran drifted into the living room, where Fran sat on the sofa and Quinn leaned over the back. Quinn asked, "How was your summer?" 

"It was okay, but kind of dull without you around." 

"Meet any interesting boys?"

"None that really jumped out at me. You?"

"A couple from the local state college."

Beth called out, "Just to let you know, dinner's almost ready and David will be home soon. You probably have time for a shower if you want one."

Quinn finished a sip of soda and said, "Oh, that sounds wonderful." 

"Fran, can you get everything together for her?" 

"Sure, Beth." Fran then said to Quinn, "I hope you remember the way."

"I think so."

Quinn took her suitcase to the guest room to retrieve her toiletries and a change of clothes. Fran was exiting the bathroom when Quinn arrived. 

"All yours," Fran said and stepped out of the way. 

Quinn said, "I won't be too long," before entering and closing the door.

Looking in the mirror before undressing, it suddenly dawned on Quinn that Fran wasn't wearing makeup over the accident scars on her face.

* * *

Sitting on a barely padded chair in the Lawndale Temporary Staffing Services waiting room, Nick wiggled his clip-on tie to try to make it rest a little more comfortably. His sole dress shirt was slightly tight and the tie's clip pressed tight against the bottom of this throat. Nick flipped through an old sports magazine, skimming parts of articles on two-year old football games.

The door at one end of the room opened and a thirtyish man stepped out. After a stop by the water fountain, he left and a man in a gray suit appeared at the open door. "Nicholas Campbell?"

Nick rose and walked over. "I'm Nick."

"Hi Nick, I'm Josh Allen. Come in and have a seat, please." Mr. Allen allowed Nick to enter and closed the door before taking a seat behind a wooden desk. He picked up Nick's application and quickly read through it. "It looks like you haven't had much formal work experience since high school."

"No, I haven't."

"Hmm. Freelance disc jockey and member of a band, Mystic Spiral. I think I've seen you at McGrundy's Pub once or twice."

"Um, thanks."

"Well, I see you have experience with different sound systems and associated electronics, plus basic electrical knowledge."

"Yeah, it helps when an amp needs rebuilding."

Mr. Allen set the application aside and picked up a small stack of paper from another part of his desk. He skimmed several pages and then said, "Well, I have an electrician that's looking for a helper for a couple weeks. Starts Monday."

"An electrician like, house-wiring electrician?"

"Mostly subcontracting for new construction, but yes."

Nick took a breath and said, "I'll take it."

"I haven't even mentioned the pay."

"Whatever it is, it's better than what I'm making now."

* * *

Fran followed Quinn's car into the neatly lined lot and parked her metallic blue VW Beetle next to her friend. Each girl's eyes were fixed on the tall columns of the main entrance of their new home, the Theta Theta Theta sorority house. Fran was the first to speak. "You know, I think I can get used to this."

Quinn grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her forward. "This is going to be great." They trotted up the front steps and into the entry foyer of the building. Numerous students, both residents and recruited help were busily moving personal effects to the rooms.

A clear voice from their right called, "Fran! Quinn! Over here!" At a registration table was a blonde wearing a golden yellow shirt with "REGISTRATION" written in black above 3 copies of the Greek letter theta. She immediately looked through a file box on the table and removed two folders.

Quinn said, "Hi, Mary." 

Mary passed the appropriate folders to Quinn and Fran. "Here are your room contracts and checklists. Make sure you go through the checklist and let one of the registration crew know about any problems with your room before you sign it." She next produced keys and handed them over. "Fran, you're in room 303 and Quinn, you're in 304. Third floor, suite 3-1 is at the end of the north hall."

"Let's get the rooms checked so we can unpack," Fran said, heading to the stairs.

They weaved their way up the two flights of stairs and down the hallway. To the left was a door marked "Suite 3-1 Rooms 301-304." Entering, they found themselves in a common living room, with a nice kitchen beyond. Set into the near corners, one hallway led off each side of the living room, paralleling the main hall. They found their rooms in the hall to the left, Fran's first and then Quinn's.

Each room had a small private bathroom just inside the door, with the main space beyond. A closet ran the full length of the dividing wall between bathroom and bedroom. The bedroom was supplied with a comfortable bed that had a shelved headboard, a waist-high dresser, desk, bookshelf and a nightstand. A wide window graced the far wall, with a fire-escape landing just outside.

Fran whistled and said, "Damn."

Quinn hugged Fran with one arm and said, "Yeah, I can get used to this."

* * *

The call of a single cricket surviving somewhere in the alley behind McGrundy's gave a counterbalance to the boisterous din of the last several hours. A bouncer opened the back door to allow the band members to load their gear into the black Suburban parked nearby.

Hauling a drum, Max said, "What a lame crowd tonight."

"Yeah," Jesse agreed, carrying his cased guitar.

Trent was the next out, carrying his guitar and a mike stand. "Maybe we need new material."

Sliding the mixing board into the back of the SUV, Nick said, "Guys, I, um, need to tell you something."

"Gonna finally tune your guitar?" Max jokingly asked.

"I don't need your crap right now," Nick snapped.

"Lighten up, dipwad," Max snapped back.

Trying to distract them, Jesse said, "Hey, anybody want a burger?"

"I can't afford one," Nick said. "That's why I'm quitting the band."

"I'm a little flush," Jesse said. "I can cover you."

"That's because you live in your parents' basement and don't pay rent."

Max said, "You can't quit, man. We're about to bust loose on the music scene." 

"We're falling flat on our asses and not going anywhere."

Trent said, "It's a rough spot. We need to come up with some new stuff, and eyes are back on the prize." 

"That's fine for you; you've got Lindy for a nice sugar momma. I've got a daughter to look after and this just ain't cuttin' it any more."

"Let's take a couple days," Trent suggested.

Nick said, "I don't have a couple days. I start temping on Monday. I can't stay out until three or four in the morning and expect to be at work by six. I'm sorry, but I don't have a choice this time."

"Dude!" Max yelled. "We're the Spiral, you can't just leave!"

"Yes," Nick answered. "Yes I can. Look, you can find someone else. Must be other musicians wanting to get into a band."

"But Nick…" Trent pleaded.

Nick said, "I'm sorry. It's been a lot of fun. It really has. But, I can't live on what I'm making now and do what's right for Ariel. I need a real job." 

Trent shook his head. "Okay, but think it over. We'll hold a spot for you."

Nick reached inside of the door to McGrundy's and picked up his guitar case. "Thanks, but I have thought about it. I won't forget all this, but…I'm sorry. I better go."

Nick made a hasty exit, leaving the others standing in silence. Finally, Jesse said, "Damn, that sucks." 

Trent cocked his head and asked, "Sugar momma?"

* * *

Carrying several plastic grocery bags each, Quinn and Fran weaved through boxes randomly stacked in the living room. Fran called, "We're back!" toward the right-side hallway.

A brunette with tightly curled hair emerged from the hall. Quinn said, "Hi, Grace. Where's Tammy?"

Grace said, "Stuffed under a desk with her butt up in the air trying to hook up my computer."

A muffled voice said, "I heard that!" Moments later, a deeply tanned blonde came out, brushing her knees. "Just because you tried to hook your mouse to the monitor port." 

"But they kind of look the same."

"Grace, do I need to tell you the difference between male and female connectors, again?"

"Eww, no. But why couldn't they come up with different names?"

"Because all the old electronic geeks were perverts."

A bright chirping sound caused Quinn to rush her bags to the kitchen and take a cell phone from her pocket. "Hello."

"Hey, Quinn," Sandi said from her tiny efficiency apartment. "Sorry I missed your call yesterday. I worked the evening shift at Cashman's." 

Quinn started emptying the bags by pulling out a six-pack of diet soda. "No problem, I was just letting everyone know that I got here safely."

"How's your new place?" 

While talking, she started ferrying things to the refrigerator. Celery and carrot sticks, frozen cheeseless pizza, and other low-fat snacks. "It's really nice. I told you about Fran, and the other girls are Grace and Tammy."

"You know, I'm starting to like having a place of my own. The quiet is…nice."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that." 

Sandi laughed, "Yeah. You'd almost think your sister rubbed off on me."

Fran joined Quinn and unloaded her groceries, sport energy bars and protein drinks, along with a careful selection of breads, meats, fruits and vegetables. She held one of the energy bars back and started snacking on it while Quinn talked. 

"Daria would die to hear you say that. Have you seen Stacy or Tiffany? I couldn't get a hold of them yesterday." 

"No, Quinn, I haven't seen them since we had dinner together."

Tammy and Grace joined them in the kitchen and stared at Fran's stash. Seeing them, Fran said, "Trust me, you don't want to eat like this."

Quinn said to Sandi, "I hope they're all right."

* * *

Jesse and Max were stretched out on the sofa of Trent's living room while he sat in an easy chair. At her computer desk, Lindy half-paid attention while the band discussed Nick's departure. 

Jesse said, "Nick turned down a burger. He's serious, man."

"We've been through this before," Trent explained. "You've been mad, I've been mad, Max's been mad." 

"He didn't seem mad," Max said. "If he's gone, what're we gonna do?"

Lindy turned her chair and said, "I can search online for anyone in the area looking to join a band. I bet there are one or two college students looking." 

Trent shook his head. "I don't know. Mystic Spiral is the four of us."

Lindy said, "Bands replace members. It's life. Even the Beatles had to replace someone before they hit the big time."

Max said, "Whoa, you mean George wasn't one of the originals?"

Lindy rubbed her eyes and said, "No…Ringo wasn't the original drummer." 

"Get out! The drummer's the heart of a band." 

"It's true," Trent confirmed.

"Oh, man." Max beamed with a realization. "Well, I guess it shows how important the drummer is."

Jesse said, "But we need a new bass player."

"I'll start looking online for you," Lindy said. "I'll also swing by the colleges and put up some flyers. The state schools have registration and add-drop next week."

"You know, we better get somebody by our gig on Friday," Trent said.

"But, who's gonna fill in for Nick during practice?" Jesse asked. 

Trent slapped his forehead. "Ah man, practice. We better find somebody by Thursday."

Lindy started typing at her computer keyboard. "Better set up auditions on Wednesday, so you three have a whole day to fight about who to hire."

* * *

"Quinn!" Stacy said over the phone. "I'm sorry I missed your call, but I was out of town for a race and didn't get home until late Sunday."

Seated on a lounge chair in the secluded back yard of the Tri-Theta house, Quinn flopped back as she remembered. "That's okay, I kinda forgot about the race. How'd you do?"

Stacy said, "So-so. I couldn't keep a good line through turn three the whole race and I still think Dad's running the engine a little lean."

"Uh-huh." 

"You didn't understand a word that I said, did you?" 

"I understood 'so-so', but other than that…um, no," Quinn admitted.

Stacy laughed and said, "Don't worry. So you made it to back to Malibu. Been to the beach yet?"

Looking down at the pale skin exposed by her modest, blue two-piece bathing suit, Quinn said, "Not yet, I'm pre-tanning."

"Your sorority has tanning beds?"

Quinn chuckled, "No, Stacy, I'm in the back yard. But it's safe; they have a nice privacy hedge."

In a nearby lounge chair, Fran sarcastically said, "Because it's a crime around here to be seen with pasty skin."

"Who was that?" Stacy asked.

"Oh, that's Fran, she's here with me to even out her tan," Quinn said, referring to the lighter colored bands of skin on Fran's arms and legs close to her black, one-piece suit. Skin normally covered by shorts and a shirt.

"Oh, your old roommate. Tell her that I'm so jealous of her hair. Between the helmet and HANS device when I race, I can't wear my hair too long."

Quinn held the phone away and said, "Another one jealous of your hair." 

"Thanks, but it's long only because I just trim it. Takes a while, but anyone can grow something like this."

"She says thanks," Quinn relayed to Stacy.

"Great. I've got to go to work, but I wanted to catch you before I left. Glad you made it."

"Thanks. I hope you do better in your next race."

"I hope so. See ya, Quinn." 

"Bye, Stacy."

Closing the phone, Quinn said, "Wow. I can't believe I forgot about Stacy's race."

* * *

Sweat soaked Nick's shirt under the afternoon sun as he threaded electrical wire through open wall studs. All of the wiring along the exterior walls was complete and another crew had started applying the sheathing.

The master electrician stopped at several points and checked Nick's work. Nick watched from the corner of his eye as the man squatted and made an adjustment to one wall fixture. Nervous, he concentrated again on his present work as his boss stepped up.

The electrician said, "You're doing a good job and I appreciate your enthusiasm. But, you can slow down a little." He cocked his thumb back. "It's worth taking a little extra time to do a job that'll last."

"Okay, I'll try to remember that."

"Don't worry, son. You're doing a good job. Hopefully, you'll learn to do a great job."

* * *

Tiffany slowly said, "Hey, Quinn. I got your message."

Seated in the central living room of the suite with her roommates and watching a romantic comedy on Tammy's DVD player, Quinn said, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Quinn. Why do you ask?"

"I left the message four days ago. I was getting worried."

"Oh, sorry. I forgot to check my messages."

Quinn sighed in frustration.

Tiffany asked, "How's California?" 

"I'm so happy to be back, though getting used to the traffic again will take a while."

"You should get Stacy to help you."

Giggling, Quinn said, "Good one, Tiffany."

"I'm going to the gym. Bye, Quinn." 

"Bye, Tiffany."

* * *

The young man attacked more than played guitar and attempted to sing:

_Can't stand your lips, can't stand your eyes,  
can't stand your teeth, can't stand your thighs,  
that's why I loathe…you..._

He started wildly swinging his guitar, but somehow avoided hitting anything as he added his big finish:

_Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit!_

Seated at the gazebo in his back yard, Trent coughed and said, "Thanks. We'll let you know."

The man walked past the line of others waiting to audition. He grinned and said, "It's in the bag man. Ya might as well go home."

Max said, "He's got fire in him, if nothing else."

Jesse said, "He ain't got good rhythm."

Trent scratched his chin and said, "But, he might help with songwriting." 

Jesse called out, "Uh…next!"

A kid of about 18 walked up and plugged in his guitar. "Hey dudes. Man, I hope this will be my ticket out of high school."

The detonation of noise from his playing was unmistakably loud and irritating. After about ten seconds, Trent held up his hand and shouted, "Okay! Okay!"

The boy stopped. "Huh?" 

"We'll let you know."

The kid snatched his guitar free and stomped away. "Damn old farts won't give a kid a break."

Jesse said, "Man, he sucked."

"We may be criminales," Max said, "but that was criminal." 

Trent shook his head. "That guitar must be working off some bad karma."

"Next!" Max said.

The next applicant appeared with an acoustic guitar. "Uh…bear with me, will ya? I'm still kinda learning this thing."

Trent quietly groaned.

Over an hour later, the band members sat around the gazebo and dejectedly looked at each other. Finally, Trent suggested, "Maybe we can try again next week."

Jesse said, "What about Friday?"

Shrugging, Trent said, "We'll go on without a bass player."

Max slid off the seat and stood. "Guess so. Jesse, still need a ride home?" 

"Yeah."

"See ya tomorrow at practice," Max said to Trent as he and Jesse started walking to the front of the house.

"I'll be here."

* * *

"Can't we get a bass guitar machine?" Max asked in deep frustration as he left Trent's house the next evening. "You know, like those damn drum machines?"

At the door, Trent said, "Um, Max, I don't think they make them."

"We need somebody. The three of us just ain't doing it. Hey, how about we try the 'I loathe you' guy anyway? Worth a shot."

Stepping out behind Trent, Jesse said, "He couldn't tell a C from a G cord."

"Like you can?"

Trent stepped in. "Hey."

Max said, "Trent, right now, we suck."

"You know, yeah," Jesse agreed, forgetting or ignoring Max's comment about his playing.

"It's temporary," Trent said. "We'll find someone."

"I guess," Max said.

Jesse said, "Maybe. Sometimes, I wonder if we should move on."

"Speaking of moving on," Max said, motioning to his blue car, "If you want a ride, I'm heading out."

"Okay."

Trent watched as they piled into his old car, half smiling at remembering some of the good times associated with it.

The car coughed, sputtered and roared to life. Max put the car in reverse, but after moving a couple feet, three loud clunks sounded under the car and it jerked to a stop. Max cussed and slammed the shifter into drive. The car jerked forward and stopped with another loud thud under the car, followed by the sound of liquid splashing on pavement.

Max flung the door open and rolled out to look underneath the car. "Ah dammit! The tranny's shot!"

Seeing the dark liquid flowing downhill from the car, Trent said, "That doesn't look good."

Max crawled up and looked over the top of the car door. "It bites. I don't have the scratch to drop in a new tranny, even if I rebuild a POS from the junkyard."

"How are we gonna get home?"

Max said, "Um, Trent?" 

Trent pulled keys from his pocket and pointed to his truck. "Hop in."

* * *

In the morning sunlight, a tall man with brown hair pulled into a ponytail connected a cable to Max's car and started winching it onto a service truck's lowered deck. Printed in an arc along each truck door was a logo proclaiming, "Rowe Custom Automotive." 

Standing beside Trent near the tall yard sculpture, Max said, "It had a good life, but it's time to say goodbye. Mr. Rowe's going to give me a good scrap price for the old car."

"You're not gonna fix it?"

"Trent, it's dead."

"Mmm. Means I'm gonna have to give everyone rides."

Max scratched the back of his neck and said, "No, you're…not." 

"New rig? Cool."

"No, Trent. Between Nick and the car, it got me thinking. You, me and Jesse have been together for ten years. And, we haven't gone anywhere."

"Max?" 

The bald man nodded. "I'm leaving the Spiral, too. Maybe see if I can get a job with Mr. Rowe."

"Max, what about 'eyes on the prize'?"

With a clunk, Mr. Rowe leveled the cargo deck of the service truck and walked around to complete securing the car.

Max said, "There's no prize for Mystik Spiral." He started walking to the loaded truck and added, "But dude, you did find a prize. Don't pull a Nick and lose her over us."

* * *

Lindy opened the front door and said, "Hey, Jesse. Trent's downstairs getting his gear."

Hands in pockets, Jesse absently said, "Hmm. Good timing."

Aware of his mood, Lindy said, "Sorry about Max. But, Trent says that the band started with you two."

"Yeah."

Lindy stopped and leaned against a wall, watching. She said under her breath, "This doesn't look good."

She waited for several minutes until Jesse reemerged from the basement. Looking at the floor, he rushed by and said, "See ya later, Lindy." 

Trent followed seconds later, forlornly carrying his guitar case. Lindy took his free hand and asked, "Was that what it looked like?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry. I know how much the music meant to you."

"Jesse and me had been playing together for twelve years."

Putting her arms around his waist, she asked, "What are you going to do now?"

He moved his arm around Lindy's shoulder and held her close. "A gig's a gig."

* * *

Gently pushing Fran into the red Vexxer, Quinn said, "I know, I know. No blind dates. Trust me, I learned my lesson." 

Dressed in light summer wear like Quinn, Fran asked, "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"That's what worries me."

Quinn jogged around the car and got in to drive. "Don't worry," she said as she started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

"It's a party. I know it. First free Friday in Malibu and you've found a party." 

"No…"

"No?"

"No." 

"Quinn, you're scaring me."

Leaving campus, Quinn took a short drive down the Pacific Coast Highway and off a side road, making a loop to a public access beach. She pulled to the roadside and parked.

Fran asked, "Here?"

"Here." Quinn picked up a small digital camera and said, "Stand over there."

Shrugging, Fran said, "Okay," and stood at the spot.

Quinn pushed buttons on the camera back and whispered, "I hope I got this right." Placing the camera on the car hood, she leaned over to look at the small display and adjust it on Fran. Happy, she pressed the shutter and the screen started to display a numeric countdown from ten. Quinn hurried to Fran to stand beside her friend. "Smile."

After the camera flash, Quinn rushed back and checked the camera. "Yes!" 

Fran approached at a slower pace. "Hmm. I didn't break the camera."

Quinn showed the small display. Behind the two young women were the beach and the setting sun above the horizon. 

Fran said, "Nice picture. But, what's this all about?" 

Quinn replied, "Realizing I have a new home." 

"New home?"

"California. Now that I'm back, I know that this is home."

"What about your friends back in Maryland?"

"Sandi will probably be out here by next year, but Stacy and Tiffany are making their lives back east. We'll stay friends, but we have to move on. We would all have to give up something important to stay together in Lawndale. And yeah, my family's back there, but…this is what feels right for me. I'll go back to visit, but like Daria staying in Boston, I'm staying in Malibu."

"And I'm out here because…?" 

"Only a good friend would understand."

"Yeah, I understand."

* * *

Trent stepped onto the stage of McGrundy's Pub and sat against a single wooden stool behind a microphone stand. He coughed and said, "Hey, I'm Trent Lane. I know you're expecting Mystik Spiral, but we've had a change of plans. For a lot of years, we used to say, 'Eyes on the prize' and followed a dream."

Trent strummed the guitar and made a small tuning adjustment. "That's over. Mystik Spiral's gone. Some dreams don't last."

Looking in the crowd, he found Lindy sitting to one side and watching, rolling the bright yellow no-alcohol ID band around her wrist. He smiled at her and said, "But others do."

He strummed his guitar again and started playing. His burred voice sang a song he'd first performed the previous summer:

_Love has the schedules,   
For where we have to go.  
Love makes the rules,  
Why, we hope to know._

* * *

"Nick? What are you doing here?" Sara asked. "You're up and moving by noon on a Saturday?"

Nick held up a box sealed with a white bow. "Just dropping something off for Ariel."

Hearing Nick's comment, the little girl picked up a VCR remote and paused the video she was watching. Ariel then hopped off the sofa and rushed to the door. "Something for me?"

He knelt down and said, "Just for you, princess."

Ariel opened the box and squealed in delight to see the blue dress she'd seen the week before. "Oh, Daddy!" 

Sara said, "How'd you...?"

"I listened to some good advice."

* * *

_I Loathe You_ from _Café Disaffecto_ by Glenn Eichler

Thanks to Kristen Bealer, Ipswichfan and Mr. Orange for beta reading.

July-August 2006


End file.
